


Hunting for Home

by DragonGirl420



Series: Hunting for Home [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean Winchester x You - Freeform, F/M, Supernatural - Freeform, dean winchester fan fiction, spn fan fic, supernatural fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl420/pseuds/DragonGirl420
Summary: An on-going story of Dean Winchester and a female hunter he meets while at a Halloween party. Each chapter is based off a song prompt, and will continue as their lives continue to become more complicated as their relationship develops into something much deeper then they had ever planned.





	1. The Halloween Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader meet at a Hunter’s Halloween party, and just when they think they could be having a good time, some vamps show up and ruin everything.

“I hate Halloween parties, Sam,” Dean moaned as he steered his car down the long stretch of highway. “Seriously, I hate them.”

“Yeah Dean, I know. I really think we’ve had this conversation every year since, oh geez, I don’t know… puberty.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean trailed off and made a mocking face of his brother.

“Just… drive, ok? We will be there soon.”

“At a damn Halloween party. I told you, I am not staying.”

“Dude, I don’t care. I told her I would be there, so I am going.”

“And tell me again how exactly you know this girl?” Dean asked not taking his eyes off the road. “Because honestly Sam, I cannot recall one time since you left school that you’ve mentioned her.”

“That’s because I never said I knew her from school Dean,” Sam answered casually but didn’t offer any more information.

“Then… wait.. How do you know her?”

“Just drive man, c’mon. I just thought it would be fun to get out of the bunker for something that wasn’t a case or, you know, the end of the world for once.”

Dean sighed and paid attention to the road. “Fine. Where do I go from here?”

“Ten more miles and you should see a turn off on the right,” Sam said trying to see beyond the fog in front of them. “Her place is at the end of the road on the lake.”

Dean passed him a glance from the corner of his eye and grumbled. “Does this girl have a name?”

“Harley,” Sam said and looked out the window.

“Harley?” Dean asked sarcastically. “Really?”

“Yeah, Dean, that’s her name. Man, what is your deal tonight? I get you don’t like parties, but, you’re being extra surly.”

Dean rolled his eyes and knew that his brother was right. He hated when Sam was right. But he really did hate parties… especially Halloween parties. The costumes, the fake monsters and the level of stupid that most people achieved was beyond his patience level.

“Alright, look, I’m sorry, ok? I will try to be less of a dick… but, you gotta tell me, man, how do you know this chick?”

Sam pursed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, “Well, uh, she’s a hunter… ok?”

“So, you’re taking me to a hunter’s Halloween party?”

“Mmhmm, yeah.”

“Great,” Dean said to himself, shaking his head as his hands gripped Baby’s steering wheel tighter. “Oh, this should be a blast.”

Twenty minutes later the Impala’s headlight scanned across the cabin where the party was raging on. Dean noticed a dozen or more vehicles littered the parking lot in front of the cabin and hit the brakes.

“I am not leaving her in here Sam,” Dean’s face contorted into that of a pouty five-year-old and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dude, just park over there,” he motioned to an empty place down to the left. “She’ll be fine.”

Standing by the fridge for the last hour had not been your idea of a good time. You were only making an appearance at Harley’s little Halloween bash because you owed her one from a hunt that had taken a bad turn a month back. A guilt trip and half a bottle of whiskey later you had finally relented and came to her party.

Leaning back against the counter, you took a swig from the bottle of beer, finishing the last sip. As you opened the fridge to grab another, there was a bit of commotion at the front door. Giving it a passing glance, you secured a bottle of some craft brew and rolled your eyes.

“She even has boogee beer… Jesus,” you shook your head but used a lighter on the counter to pop the top. You downed half the bottle in one gulp, and despite the pretentious label of the brew, you didn’t mind the taste.

Looking around at all the Halloween decorations, you wrinkled your nose and pulled down a paper Mache witch hat that Harley had hung from the light.

“Is she fucking serious with this crap?” you mumbled to yourself.

Shaking your head, you meandered around the kitchen wishing desperately you were anywhere, but there.

Just as you put the bottle down, Harley stumbled into the kitchen with a tall, well-built man whose entire face was smiling while chatting with your cousin. Following them was another man dressed in a black shirt with a blue and gray flannel, and dark blue jacket over top. The expression he wore was more similar to your own, here under duress.

Harley had her armed linked through that of the taller man and screeched a hello when she saw you standing sentry duty at the fridge.

“Y/N! Look who’s here! Sam, this is my cousin Y/N, Y/N, Sam… and this is his brother Dean,” Harley said and flicked her hand absently in his direction. “Don’t mind him, he’s being a party pooper already.”

A crash from the other room stole Harley’s attention. “Sorry boys gotta attend to that. You know how hunters are when they all get together and get drunk!”

“Don’t I know it,” Dean muttered, earning a chastising look from Sam.

“Hi there,” Sam said and stretched out his hand, “it’s nice to officially meet you. Harley’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Too bad you never mentioned Harley,” Dean griped under his breath.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, and at how annoyed Sam was by him. You suppressed a laugh that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean.

“Would, uh, you guys like a beer or something?” you asked and stepped aside, opening the fridge for them.

Sam reached in a grabbed a bottle, “I’m going to go out and find Harley, maybe say hi to some of the others.” He held up his bottle in a salute and headed out of the kitchen.

As Dean took his turn to reach into the fridge, you heard him talking to himself and tried to catch what he was saying. When he finally made a choice and closed the door, he caught you looking at him and gave you a half-guilty smile.

“Kinda boogee selection, right?” He shrugged, amusing you with his expression.

“It’s the worst,” you chuckled and saluted him with your own bottle. “I’d kill for a bottle of whiskey right now.”

“Same,” he said and tapped his bottle to yours. “So, uh, Harley’s your cousin… are you in the business?”

“I am,” you answered and drank another generous portion of your beer. “I’ve been out of the game for a while, but I was hunting regularly as of a few months ago.”

“What happened?” Dean asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

“Things got messy, made some bad choices and now… just needed a mental health break, you know?”

Dean drank from his bottle and nodded, “Yeah, I might know something about that.”

Another loud crash from the living room had your nerves on edge. “Hey, it was nice meeting you, but I am going to go get some fresh air. This really isn’t my scene…” another loud bang made you flinch, “…anymore.”

“You mind if I tag along? It’s not really mine either. I hate these kinds of parties, especially on Halloween. I mean, I’m all for the candy, but…”

“Dude… same,” you and Dean clinked bottles again, and you motioned for him to follow you out of the back door as you grabbed a six pack of the craft beer from the fridge.

An hour and half a six-pack later, you and Dean had traded enough war stories to realize that your hunting styles were eerily similar, as was your attitude about the job. You found him charming and funny. But you also weren’t stupid and knew that he was a hunter, which meant that no matter how charming and cute he was, it would never go any further than a one night stand.

“So, come on, tell me why you don’t hunt anymore,” he asked, his green eyes transfixed on you.

You got quiet and really didn’t want to discuss it, but felt as though you’d drank enough to give him the cliff’s notes version.

“I was trying to take out a nest of vamps and I failed. My partner got himself killed, and they got my scent. So, I pretty much went into hiding after that. Harley here gave me a safe place to hide and went after the rest of them.”

“They still out there?” Dean asked sitting up straighter on the edge of the picnic table where you were talking.

“A few. She’s still looking for them… it’s how she guilted me into coming,” you confessed and finished off another bottle.

“Sam and I can help. We’ve dealt with our fair share of vamps.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to involve anyone else,” you shrugged. “It’s my problem, you know? Harley… she’s different, she’s…”

“Family?” Dean proposed.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Feeling the alcohol hitting your head, you found your way to the table and took a seat next to Dean. “So, tell me, Dean, why do you hate Halloween?” You chuckled at your inadvertent rhyme while your new friend snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I mean, I like the candy… that part’s good. But really, it’s just some excuse for a bunch of witches and other nasty, vile creatures to kill or to spew all kinds of gross things from their bodies in the name of… whatever,” Dean ranted and finished off his beer.

You laughed at his expression and gently nudged your shoulder into his. Music from inside the house was getting louder, and even though Harley’s house was the only one occupied on the lake, you cringed at the level of volume.

“At least the music is decent,” Dean said turning to look at you. When he saw how close you were, a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “You, uh, wanna go back inside or anything?”

“No,” you said smiling at him. “I am perfectly content right here.” The beer had your head buzzing, and the more you looked at Dean, the more you noticed things about him you really liked.

He was smart and sarcastic in a way that made you laugh. He could talk about the job but then jump over to talking about old movies in the next breath. Watching him discuss his love of classic horror films or favorite Jack Nicholson flicks, you couldn’t help but watch his lips. It had been a while since someone caught your attention in that way, but once you noticed them, it was hard to look away.

From inside, Ramble On came through the speakers, and Dean’s face lit up, a wide grin rolling across his mouth.

“I kinda love this song,” he confessed giddily, his whole face was smiling now.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the sudden satisfaction with your decision to come to the party, but a rush of confidence blasted through you. Not giving him a chance to reject you, you leaned in and kissed Dean on squarely on the lips.

Dean pulled back quickly and stared at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. You felt instantly stupid for misreading the situation and started stammering as you stood up.

“Dean, I… I’m sorry… I –”

“Just stop,” he stood up and blocked you from leaving, “you, uh, just caught me by surprise. I didn’t hate it,” he smiled in a way that made butterflies come alive in your chest and stomach. “In fact,” he took a step closer, “I think it would be a great idea to do it again.”

Dean leaned in, his lips parting slightly as they found yours. His hands gripped the hem of your shirt where it rested on your hips. Your tongue finally found his, and he accepted it happily. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt Dean’s arms slip around the lowest part of your waist.

He gently pushed you back against the table, knocking over a couple of the empty bottles, but lifted you up to be sitting on the top. Dean kissed you deeper, but still, his lips were soft and gentle upon yours. His hand came up to caress the side of your face, and when he touched your skin, a slight moan escaped you.

You separated for a second in an effort to catch your breath. Dean was about to say something, but a scream from inside the house cut through the music that ended abruptly.

“What the hell?!” Dean exclaimed, looking towards the house then back at you.

“I don’t know, but it’s not good,” you said, jumping up from the table. Reaching around the back of your jeans, you unsheathed a long silver knife.

Dean glanced at you in surprise but continued to be aroused. “You just keep getting better and better,” he smirked.

You shook your head and started up towards the house. Dean pulled his revolver from his inside coat pocket and the two of you quickly reentered the house through the back door.

The scene you walked in on was straight out of one of the horror movies you’d just been talking about. You and Dean exchanged a look of uncertainty and continued through the kitchen where the trail of blood started and led out into the living room.

“What the hell,” he muttered walking into the large space.

Scattered on the living room floor were eight bodies, all of which were hunters who had been at the party. They were torn apart and bloody, but there were no obvious signs of what caused the wounds. You began to panic and started to scan the faces for Harley, but didn’t see her among the dead. Dean was doing the same for Sam, and when you both realized he wasn’t there, you exchanged a look of relief.

“Upstairs,” he said quietly, raising his gun as he traversed the sea of bodies and headed towards the staircase.

Following closely behind you had your knife in hand and stealthily climbed the steps. When you hit the landing, you motioned to Dean to split up, but he shook his head slightly.

“Stay together,” he whispered, “until we know what we’re dealing with.”

You gave him a nod and let him take the lead down the hallway. The entire house was silent as you and Dean began checking room by room. The second door you opened lead into Harley’s personal arsenal where she kept most of her non-essential hunting gear.

Stopping to grab a couple machetes, you handed one to Dean who again raised an eyebrow while his lips curled into an impish smile. “Seriously, I really feel like I should marry you…”

“Maybe later Dean, can we just figure out what killed a room full of people first?”

“Yeah, well, ok…” he wavered and continued down the hallway with the machete in hand.

A scream bounced through the cavernous home, neither of you were able to pinpoint exactly where it had come from.

“Dean, that was Harley,” a bolt of panic passed through you as you sprinted down the hallway.

Dean reached out and grabbed you before you could do something stupid. “Ok, maybe, but don’t go running in there like a lunatic.”

He recoiled slightly as you raised an eyebrow at him, your expression telling him to back off. “C’mon,” you said taking the lead down the rest of the hallway.

Coming to the last door, you waited until Dean was right behind you. You tried the handle, but it was locked. Dean motioned for you to step aside and with one swift kick from his boot, it went crashing in.

Harley was on the floor, blood flowing from her neck and soaking the carpet. Sam was slumped into the corner, unconscious. Over Harley’s body stood a hulking man, easily six inches taller than Dean. His back was to you, and when he turned to face you, he bared his fangs.

“Fucking vampires,” you growled and swung your machete at the creature, scoring a clean cut through its neck. Dean jumped out of the way as the blood sucker’s head rolled towards his feet.

“Damn, woman! Warn a guy first, would ya?” Dean shook his head at you and went to his brother slouched in the corner.

You looked for any signs of life on your cousin, and when you finally felt the slow, rhythmic beat of her heart, you sighed in relief.

“She alright?” Dean asked as he waited for Sam to come around.

“Yeah, he bit her, but he didn’t drain her.” You brushed the hair out of her face and tried to sit her up.

“Is there blood on her mouth? Did he turn her?” Dean asked, now lightly slapping Sam’s cheeks. “C’mon Sammy, wake up.”

“No, no blood. I think we caught him just in time,” standing you pulled Harley up and onto the low-rise couch. Holding a cloth to her wounds, you got a better look at the head of the vamp that had attacked. “I know him…” you trailed off absently.

Dean looked at you then to the head. “Was that one of them?”

You nodded simply, but then a realization dawned on you. “But he’s not the only one. Shit!” You jumped up from the bed, “There are more Dean. At least five more. If he’s here, they are all here.”

“Great,” Dean said springing to his feet. “Who doesn’t love a good vamp hunt on Halloween!?” There was a gleam in his eye that you couldn’t deny made you slightly aroused.

Making sure Harley was ok, you inquired about Sam.

“He’ll be fine, he’s starting to come around,” he looked down at his brother one more time. “Ready to go slay a few vamps?”

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The action had sobered you up, but the adrenaline from the kill had you pumped. You grabbed Dean’s neck and pulled his mouth down on yours. Allowing yourself a brief moment to delight how sweet he tasted, you finally released him and smiled.

“Well alright then,” he said, taking in a deep breath, “that’ll be continued once we kill these nasty sons of bitches.”

“Deal,” you said and winked playfully at him.

Scanning the house, neither you nor Dean found any other vampires. When you were stood in the living room again surveying the bodies, Dean looked at you curiously.

“Wait, there were at least a dozen cars outside. But, there are only eight people here. So, who did those other cars belong to?”

Feeling your stomach drop, you closed your eyes and knew that you were screwed. Flashing back to the night your hunt went wrong, you slowly moved the curtain back to look outside. All around the front of the house, a nest of vamps had the entire front surrounded.

“Shit!” you muttered and started pacing the room. “How the hell do we get out of this?” You could feel your panic starting to rise and your breath was coming in short, raspy spurts.

Dean gently rested his machete against the wall and pulled you away from the window.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Y/N… take a deep breath and focus on my voice. You can do this. These vamps, they’re gonna die. No God damn way I am going to let a bunch of bloodsuckers stop me from A, getting a shitload of candy on Halloween and B, finishing what we started outside, alright?”

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh at him, and slowly found your breath again.

“Now, we gotta think… what else does Harley keep upstairs? Anything we could use?”

“May… maybe?” you stammered trying to remember exactly what she kept in the arsenal.

Heading back upstairs, Sam was just emerging from the room down the hall, the side of his head in his hand, his face twisted in pain.

“Dean…” Sam started as his brother picked up the pace towards him, “what the hell happened? Why is Harley bleeding on the bed?”

“Vamps, man. We were out back, heard a scream. Came inside and they were all dead.”

“All of them…?” Sam asked, swallowing the lump in his throat and Dean just nodded. “Harley and I were…” Sam turned back to the room confused, and then back to Dean.

“Yeah, we know what you were up here for,” Dean nudged you and winked.

“Is he always like this?” you asked Sam with a smile, but was shaking your head at Dean.

Ignoring you, Sam noticed both you and Dean had machetes. “Got an extra one in the car?”

“Yeah, but we can’t get to the car. The whole damn cabin is surrounded by the nest. Y/N killed the one about to feast on your girlfriend, but now the rest are waiting.”

Pushing your way past them, you went into Harley’s room and grabbed two more machetes. Passing one to Sam, you went back into the bedroom and shook Harley until her eyes fluttered open.

Groaning, and bringing a hand to the wound on her neck, she finally sat up and focused on you.

“What the hell?” she saw the blood on her fingers and started to panic.

“It was the nest, they found us,” you confessed as Sam and Dean watched from the doorway. “Everyone downstairs… they’re gone, Harley. They’re all dead. I’m sorry… I never wanted my mistakes to find you, or them.”

You felt a hand lay gently on your shoulder and looked up to see Dean gazing down at you with a sorrowful understanding. “Right now we just need a plan,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on you.

“I got it!” you shrieked and jump up, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m so dumb! Harley do you still have my bags in the closet?”

She nodded slowly, and without another word, you ran down the hallway to her war room. Deep within the closet, you found your bag you’d left in her care. Dean entered the room just as you pulled the large duffle out and dropped it the ground.

His eyes grew large with excitement when you released the crossbow from inside, along with a mason jar wrapped in a towel.

“What is that?” he asked leaning in for a closer look.

“My crossbow, a bunch of bolts and a whole jar of dead man’s blood. We’re gonna paralyze these fuckers so we can go out and chop their god damn heads off. Then…” you looked up and smiled at him, “we’re going to get some fucking candy.”

You positioned yourself in a second story window with the crossbow sight fixed on the vampire closest to the front door while you waited for Dean and Sam to et in position. Luckily, Harley had a crossbow of her own, allowing you to equip Dean with enough blood-soaked arrows to take on one side of the nest, while you dealt with the other.

Waiting for Sam’s signal you calmly placed the vamp back in the crosshairs and left your finger near, but not on, the trigger. The porch light flashed on, and you released the bolt at the same time Dean released one from his side.

Two vampires reeled backward from the impact and the poison now coursing through their veins. You and Dean shot at the rest as they began to charge the front door. Just as Dean dropped the last one with a bolt, you were scrambling downstairs to help Sam decapitate them while you could.

Throwing the front door open, you and Sam began to swing wildly at the nest of vampires hobbling around before you. You were so focused on the task at hand, you didn’t see the rogue one emerge from the darkness and charge at the porch. Just as it was about to grab your shoulder and throw you across the porch, a bolt went flying past your head, hitting the fang squarely between the eyes.

Turning around quickly, you smiled wide as Dean stood there, crossbow still raised. “Thanks, Dean.”

“My pleasure,” he said just as you whipped your machete around, backhanded and straight through its neck.

From inside, Harley’s shriek cut through the sudden quiet of the woods, as she saw the sight of her friends deceased and scattered throughout the room.

You and Dean went back inside and saw Sam and Harley standing in the room embracing. Her face buried in his chest as she grieved for her fallen hunters.

Passing a glance to Dean, he seemed to know exactly what you were trying to say and followed you out the back door. Spending the remaining few hours of Halloween, you and Dean worked together to build a large pyre for the hunter’s funeral that needed to be had.

Morning dawned hours later just as the last embers were fading from the fire. Sam had taken Harley upstairs to rest, leaving you and Dean alone at the backyard picnic table where you started.

“So, what now?” he asked, fidgeting with the label on his beer.

“Now? I don’t know… I guess start hunting again,” you stared out over the lake, your face void of expression.

“Not something you want to do?”

“C’mon Dean, you know we don’t have a choice,” you grabbed the last beer from the six-pack you’d left out there the night before and cracked it open.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he raised his bottle to yours, and you clinked the glass together while catching each other’s gaze.

“Oh, I forgot,” you said reaching into your pocket. When you pulled out your hand, you took Dean’s and turned it palm up. You put three pieces of Halloween candy in his hand and closed his fingers around them. “Sorry, it was all I could find.” You smiled and shrugged apologetically.

Dean’s face lit up as if he just scored the full-size candy bars from the good neighborhood. Licking his hips, he unwrapped a piece of chocolate and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. He sighed with happiness, making you laugh out loud.

“Thanks for this,” he said, putting the other two pieces in his pocket. Putting the beer down, Dean reached for your bottle and placed it on the table next to his. “That was sweet of you, but, uh, I think you taste better.”

Dean lifted your chin up and brought his partially open lips to yours. He kissed you softly, but with each second that passed, you could feel his want of you getting stronger. His arms wrapped around the lower part of your waist and yanked you into him.

From behind you, you both heard the back door slam shut, and a pair of boots walking down the wooden porch steps. Reluctantly pulling apart, you and Dean exchanged a hungry glance but realized that the timing wasn’t going to work.

“Till next time?” he asked hopefully.

“Next time?” you teased.

“Yeah… you better believe there’s going to be a next time,” Dean kissed you again before Sam caught up to where you were.

“Dean, we should go,” Sam said, and then turned his attention to you. “She’s gonna be ok, but maybe just keep an eye on her. If you need anything…”

“I know who to call,” you smiled at Sam who nodded a thank you in return.

“Ready Dean?”

“Yeah, one minute,” he said and when Sam started walking around to the front of the house. Dean turned back to you. “So, um… next time?”

“Give me your phone,” you held out your hand and waited until Dean put is a cell in your hand. Finding the contacts, you added your name and number and hit save. “For next time.” You smiled and handed it back to him.

As you turned and walked back up towards the house, you could feel Dean’s eyes on you. You tried not to turn and look back at him, but his gaze was hot on your ass. Once you reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder and blew him a kiss. The grin on his face contorted into a schoolboyish look of love as he threw you a wave back.

You closed the door behind you and leaned your head against it while muttering to yourself, “Oh shit… what the hell did you just get yourself into?”

Dean slipped into the front seat of the Impala but didn’t dare turn to meet Sam’s glare that had followed him inside the car.

“One hell of a night, huh?” He said as he brought the engine to life.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Sam said, his hand rubbing the large bump on his head. “So, Y/N… you and her…?”

“I’d rather talk about how you were in the room with Harley and got knocked out by a vamp… what were you doing, huh?”

Sam was silent while looking out the window, not wanting to answer Dean. Dean drove Baby down the stretch of road towards the main drag, neither of them wanting to answer each other’s questions.

By the time they reached asphalt, Dean turned to Sam unable to stay quiet any longer. “Hey, Sam? Do you think next time you want to go to a stranger’s party, you could just… you know… not. Could we just stay at the bunker, eat some candy and watch some bad movies?”

“If we had done that you wouldn’t have met Y/N,” Sam said and shrugged at his older brother.

Dean contemplated Sam’s response and nodded. “Ok, that’s true. That was actually pretty awesome,” he snorted and smiled to himself, “Alright, let me rephrase… the next time you want to go to a party full of hunters, can we at least arrive more prepared?”

“Yeah, sure Dean,” Sam said and leaned forward to turn on the radio.

Ramble On was in mid-riff when the music began pouring through the speakers. Sam was about to turn the station when Dean smacked his hand away.

“Don’t!” he chastised, flashing Sam a warning look, “I like this song…”

Dean began singing along, tapping his still blood-soaked fingers on the Impala’s wheel. Y/N’s face in his mind, and the taste of her lips firmly planted in his memory, Dean peeled out onto the highway and steered his Baby towards home.


	2. Over the Hills and Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and her cousin Harley are out on a hunt, but when it hits a snag, they call on Dean to help them out.

Your feet could only go so fast. The monster was gaining on you, but you were determined to make it and even more motivated by the fact that you were going to put a bullet right through its eyes. You just had to get to the bullets.

Finding a shortcut, you were able to reach the parking lot where your car was waiting, as were the silver bullets. Scrambling to get the trunk open, you threw aside the duffel bag and reached down into the small box beneath it.

Grabbing the last three bullets, you pulled the gun from the back of your jeans and quickly, yet efficiently loaded the rounds into the chamber. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you aimed the gun at the path where you came out of the woods and waited.

Rustling leaves in the distance was all you needed to put your finger on the trigger, fully prepared to shoot whatever came out of the tree line. Your hand was steady, your head was clear. So, when the person following you emerged from the thicket, you were a hair away from pulling the trigger, if not for the bright red shoes that were a signature element in Harley’s wardrobe.

“Dude? What the hell?” she froze at the sight of you with the gun. “Put that down, would ya? Geez.” Harley shook her head at you as you took the gun off of her face.

“I thought you were it,” you apologized, “I didn’t expect it to be you, dummy. Where the hell did it go?”

“I don’t know, I was hot on its heels as it chased you, then it broke off in a different direction. Had my sights on it for a minute, but, then nothing,” Harley shrugged as she holstered her own weapon.

Shaking it off, you turned back to the trunk and closed it without throwing your gun in.

“What now?” Harley asked, “it’s close to dawn. This thing is gone for now, so…” she raised her hands questioningly waiting for you to make the call.

“Fine, let’s head out and try to pick up its trail in a bit.”

You and Harley climbed into your Chevelle and started the engine. The music was blaring Journey’s Anyway You Want It and Harley winced, immediately reaching for the knob and turning it down. Throwing her a dirty look, you went to smack her hand away from the radio, but she moved it just in time.

“Don’t touch,” you scolded and turned the music back up. Harley rolled her eyes and you just decided to ignore her until you got back to the motel.

Pulling into the parking lot, something caught your eye in the windows of your room. Two figures were silhouetted against the drawn curtains moving about your room. Harley sat up and took notice as well, passing you a worried glance.

“Whatcha wanna do cousin?” she asked with a raised brow. “Cause those people are either monsters or legit cops, and no matter how it shakes out, it ain’t good for us.”

Trying to come up with a plan, you pulled out your cell phone and scrolled through your contacts. Pressing the call button, you waited for three rings until the voice on the other end of the line greeted you.

“Yeah?” Dean said gruffly, his voice thick with sleep, “what?”

“Hey grumpy pants, you busy?” You tried keeping your tone light and playful, but even you could hear the tinge of panic in your words.

Dean grunted on the other end of the phone as he sat up in bed, “Y/N?”

“Mmhmm, sorry I woke ya sugar, but if you aren’t busy, we could use a bit of help.”

 

An hour later you were turning off into a secluded rest area off Highway 19. The sun was just starting to rise as you parked your car a few spots away from the sleek black Impala. Dean was out and leaning against the driver’s side door as you killed the ignition and got out.

“So, you can’t call me back for weeks, but the second your ass gets caught by something, I’m the first guy you reach out too?” Dean asked accusingly, but the smile he wore betrayed his true feelings about seeing you again.

“I know, it’s been a while, I’m sorry,” you apologized as you approached him.

Snorting a laugh, Dean moved off the car and pulled you in for a hug. You hadn’t seen him since the night you met months earlier at Harley’s disastrous Halloween party. Dean had called you a few times after that, and you initiated a few texts, but to see him and feel his arms around you again after all that time, affected you much more than you thought it would.

“You’re forgiven,” he said upon releasing you, “so, tell me about this trouble you got yourself into.”

Dean looked past you into the car where Harley was fast asleep in the back seat. “She alright?”

“Yeah, she’s just sleeping. Apparently staying up all night to chase one shifter wore her out,” you rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“A shifter? Seriously? That’s the third one in the last two weeks. Sam and I just got back from taking one out in Tulsa.”

“Dirty fuckers,” you groaned, “I hate them. We caught the trail of one about a hundred miles south of here and lost it. We were heading back to our room to regroup and whatever, but saw people in the suite.”

“People?” Dean smirked, “just random or…”

“If I knew that smart ass, I wouldn’t need your help,” you smacked his chest playfully. “We just saw the silhouettes of two people in our room. We didn’t try to go in figuring it was either a monster or a cop. Didn’t want to deal with either to be honest. So, I called you.”

“’Cause I was the closest hunter to your location?”

“No, because you’re the best hunter I know of, and I want the job done right. And…” you paused, trying to decide if you wanted to start down this road at all, “…but also because I wanted to see you.”

“You did, huh?” Dean couldn’t hide the boastful smile, and you were glad.

The way he smiled at you aroused a lot of feelings that you were happy to have stirring again. Living the life of a hunter wasn’t exactly cause for many warm and fun moments, so when something brought on that release of endorphins and butterflies, you chased it down whenever you could. Dean was starting to be that release for you.

“Yeah, Winchester, that so hard to believe?” even in the face of a hunt, you couldn’t help but flirt with him.

“Let’s take care of this shifter, and then we’ll talk about just how much you missed me,” Dean winked playfully and started walking towards your car. “Hey,” he said knocking on the back-door window, “Harley… wake up!”

Harley sat up with a start and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as you rolled your eyes and groaned. “Why did you go and do that? Now I gotta listen to her bitch.”

“No, you don’t. She’s driving this,” he said pointing to your car, “and you’re riding me.” He looked back to you, and seemed taken back by your expression until he realized what he’d said, “WITH me… riding WITH me…” Dean flushed red as he wrinkled his face in embarrassment, “you know to catch me up on the case.”

“Mmhm, sure, Dean. Whatever you say. But, there is no way in hell that lunatic cousin of mine is driving this car. She’s gonna have to ride with you and fill you in, unless,” you looked past him at the Impala and when he caught your intended meaning he looked horrified.

“No,” Dean waved his hands, “No one drives my Baby except me or Sam, and even then, he gets the lecture.”

Harley pushed open the back door of your Chevelle and slowly stumbled out rubbing her eyes, “What the hell?”

“Get in Dean’s car and fill him in while we head back towards Bridgewater. He’s gonna help us with the shifter.”

Harley looked around, confused from still being half asleep and saw Dean standing near you. “Oh, hey,” she looked past him towards his car, “Where’s Sam?”

“Sam’s working on something back home. C’mon sleepy,” Dean motioned towards his car as Harley shuffled around to the passenger side, “time to rise and shine and tell me about this slimy son of a bitch that got away.”

Once she was in the front seat, Dean turned back to you, his face serious. “Try to keep up, alright?”

You nodded mockingly until he got in and closed the door.

“Oh, Dean, you really are adorable,” you smirked as you made your way around to the driver’s side of your ride. Turning the key over, the engine roared to life, and you caught Dean’s shocked expression just before maneuvering the car out of the space and whipping it back onto the highway.

image  
Originally posted by giantmonster

Sitting in the diner, Dean still had a scowl on his face as he stared out the window at the two classic cars parked side by side. He’d been grumbling about pulling in several minutes after you as if it was a direct result of either his driving abilities or in the performance of his car.

“Dean… seriously? Deal with it,” you shook your head and sipped at your own cup of coffee.

“A damn Chevelle. I mean, it ain’t right,” he shook his head, his mouth firmly set in a pout that made him look like a little boy.

The waitress dropped the food at the table finally distracting his eyes away from the parking lot with the double cheeseburger and fries he’d ordered.

You watched as he devoured half the burger in only a few bites and shook your head in disbelief.

“So,” you started pulling your plate towards you, “Harley filled you in?”

“Mmhmm,” Dean grunted as he swiped at the ketchup on his face.

“Ok, good. Any ideas on where to start looking?”

“Sewers is always a solid start; those creepy ass things like to slum it down in the trenches. I say start there,” Dean said after swallowing a hunk of the burger. He turned to look at Harley who was sat beside you as she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Sewers? Gross,” she said and used her fork to pick at her food. “If you think I am going down into some nasty slimy tunnels…”

“Harley, please. Just stop. You can stay in the car. I will go down into the sewers, princess.”

Dean snorted a laugh but went back to his burger after a chastising look from you. “There is a central hub not too far from here, but its guarded well during the day. At night, we could probably hop the fence.”

“Alright, well… let’s head over and scope the place out. Might not be what we’re looking for. But chances are, that’s where it is.”

“Before we go all Nancy Drew here, any chance a girl could get a few hours sleep? And what about all our stuff back in the room? We ever going back there to retrieve it?”

“She’s right,” Dean chimed in, “Let’s start back at the room because even if they were cops chances are, they weren’t really cops.”

“Fine,” you sighed and took a bite of your food, “a hot shower sounds good to me, and maybe a couple hours of sleep.”

“While you two do that, I’ll check out the hub. But first, let’s make sure your room is clear.”

Pulling back into the parking lot of the hotel, Dean following closely behind you. As you all piled out of the cars and walked across the lot, Harley hung back close to the Chevelle.

“I’ll be right with ya,” she called out to you as Dean approached the motel door.

You put the key in the lock, but Dean silently told you to wait a moment. He drew his 9mm from his inside coat pocket, then gave you the nod to go ahead. Turning the key as quietly as possible, you turned the handle and pushed the door in.

The room looked more lived in than it did when you and Harley had left it last. Both beds were unmade, papers from the case scattered about. You passed a look to Dean who skirted around the beds and towards the bathroom.

Beyond the closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower starting caused you to freeze. A voice floated through the cracks, humming a tune that was familiar. Catching each other’s eye at the same time, you and Dean both shrugged, unsure of what to do.

He crossed the room to get closer to you before asking, “Are you sure this is the right room?”

You motioned for him to look around, as files and newspaper clippings were spread all over the bed. “Really?!”

He shrugged was about to say something, when the front door started to open. Dean raised his weapon as you withdrew yours from the back band of your jeans but quickly lowered it when Harley crossed the threshold.

“What’s going—”

“Shhh!” you cut her off and motioned towards the bathroom. She heard the voice, which was now singing, and gently closed the door.

You and Dean took a few tentative steps towards the bathroom again. Just as he was about to turn the handle, the click of a gun was loud in your ear and the cold steel of the barrel was pressed against your head.

Confused, you went to turn, but Harley’s voice told you to stop.

“Don’t move, or I will kill you first… hunter,” the thing posing as Harley said, nearly spitting the last word at you.

“Goddammit,” you moaned, instantly angry with yourself that you didn’t see the imposter until now.

The bathroom door opened, and your clone emerged fully dressed and also holding a weapon.

“When did it stop being Harley?” you asked the shifter behind you, but couldn’t take your eyes off the one that had cloned you.

“Since the woods. I mean, you were really distracted, and this was so much easier than I thought! But then… then you went and called Winchester, so I knew we had to have a little fun.” It winked at its partner and they both cackled.

“Three hunters in one sweep, not a bad day sister,” your shifter twin added before waving the gun at you and Dean to back up. “Besides, your timing was perfect. We just finished disposing of your cousin, so now we can deal with you, finish cleaning and get the hell out of the shit town.”

Your heart broke instantly. You didn’t want to believe a word out of their mouths, but the chances are the real Harley was either stashed away somewhere or already dead as they claimed.

“Where is she?” you asked with the slightest hitch in your voice.

“She’s gone, and this suit of hers I am wearing will be down the drain in moments as well,” the shifter promised and winked at you.

“How considerate of you to clean up your vile mess for once,” Dean barked, looking between the two shifters. His gun was lowered, but his finger was not removed from the trigger.

Your shifter twin went to take the gun from his hand, but before she could, Dean brought the barrel up fast and hard into her face, causing her to reel backward. His reflexes were faster than you imagined them to be. He yelled for you to duck, and the second you did, a silver bullet exploded from Dean’s gun, landing in its shoulder.

The sound of the gun brought your attention back to the problem at hand and off of Harley’s fate. You saw the shifter Dean hit start to get up from his blow. You raised your own gun again, firing and hitting her square between the eyes.

Only seconds had passed since the two-gun shots echoed around the room. Yours and Deans instincts kicked into high gear and you went about gathering as much as your personal stuff and files as you could.

“Ready?” Dean called anxiously from the front door as he peered out into the parking lot. “We got maybe another minute before someone’s coming to check.”

“Here,” you said, tossing a duffle bag to him. Scooping up the rest of your belongings, you nodded for him to open the door.

Dashing into the parking lot, you hastily threw the stuff in the back seat and went to jump in the Chevelle.

“Hey! Y/N!” he yelled, “Follow me, alright?”

You nodded and before you could truly register everything that happened, you and Dean were peeling out of the lot and headed into parts unknown.

 

You didn’t know how long you’d been driving, but just when you didn’t think you could go any further, Dean pulled off the road and down into an underground garage. Once you directed your Chevelle into the empty space next to Dean, you killed the engine but stayed in the car.

Resting your head on the steering wheel, you waited for tears, but nothing came. Dean approached the window cautiously, twirling the Impala’s keys restlessly in his hand. He crouched down by the window and waited patiently for you to look up.

Picking up your head, you looked out the open window and caught his bright green eyes fixed on you.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“It’s the life, right?”

“Not what I asked.”

You sighed and sat back in the seat. He moved from the car when you popped the door open and climbed out. Dean was standing against the Impala, a look of understanding worn across his face.

Barreling into him, you brought your arms up around his neck, taking him by surprise. Dean didn’t hesitate though and embraced you tightly around your waist.

“We can go back and look for her,” he said, not leaving taking his arms away from you.

“No, she’s gone, Dean. I can feel it.”

He nodded in understanding and gently pulled back from the hug.

“You should, uh, probably stay here for a spell. At least until we know what’s happening at the motel and if those two shifters are now going to pose as DOA dummies for you and Harley.”

The mention of her name was still a very fresh wound and you noticed Dean flinch upon that realization.

“I’m sorry, I’m an ass,” he said, trying to play it off with a cheeky smile.

“I know you are Dean, but I like you anyway,” your voice was sweet but thick with exhaustion.

“C’mon,” he said, “let’s get you settled in.”

image  
Dean gave you the room next to his and after a hot shower and an even hotter cup of tea provided by Sam, you sat on the edge of the bed and closed your eyes.

Losing Harley was harder than you thought, but knowing two fewer shifters were in the world made it a little easier. Harley had been more than family; she’d been your best friend since you were five. Growing up in the life had been full of turbulence, but you had navigated it together.

Now, it was just you and you had no idea what came next.

A soft knock at your door made you sit up tall and smooth out the clothes that Dean offered you. They were his and were far too big, but it was better than wearing the blood-soaked clothes you arrived in.

“Come in,” you called and a second later the door opened to Dean carrying a tray of food.

“I made you a few things, wasn’t sure what you liked or wanted really.”

“Thanks, that was sweet.”

“Sure,” Dean was nervous and despite the circumstances, thought it was cute. “You rest, we can figure stuff out in the morning.”

“Actually, Dean…” you got up off the bed and cautiously wrapped your hand around his, “could you stay? I don’t know, tonight… tonight I just need someone to hold me. Just for a bit, okay? I just… I need someone to hold me.”

Without a word, Dean put the tray down on the desk near the door. Leading you by the hand to the bed, he waited until you laid down before sitting on the edge. He unlaced his boots and kicked them off towards the corner.

Laying back against the pillows, Dean moved his arm so you could settle into the crook of his shoulder. His arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder, while gently caressing the skin on your arm with his thumb.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” he said unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice. “There’s plenty of room, and I can guarantee you the best continental breakfast in all of the mid-west. Whatcha say?” he asked trying to make you smile.

“I say…” you paused, really thinking about his offer. Staying in the bunker was probably going to be best for your sanity, but the idea of hitting the open road sounded blissful and necessary. You knew that there was too large of a pause, and tried to recoup.

“I say, thank you, I will take you up on that offer. As long as Sam is good with it.”

“Sam doesn’t have a say, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Dean, I just don’t want to make more trouble…”

Sitting up on one elbow, Dean looked down at you as he gently brushed a stray hair from your cheek.

“You couldn’t make any more trouble than Sam and I already make ourselves… Besides, you have any idea how cool it would be to have someone else around that likes to listen to loud music?”

His smile lit up the room, and for just a second, you felt ok. Reaching back towards the small table, you grabbed your phone and went to YouTube. You found the track you were looking for, and when you hit play, Dean’s smile grew wide, causing the little wrinkles at the corner of his eye to deepen.

Burying yourself back into him, you closed your eyes again and let the music play. Over the Hills and Far Away played through the tiny cell phone speaker, but it was enough for you and Dean. He wrapped an arm across your abdomen, causing a flash of heat barely a few inches below from where his hand rested.

 

Hey lady, you got the love I need  
Maybe more than enough  
Oh darling, darling, darling   
Walk a while with me  
Ohh, you’ve got so much, so much, so much

For the first time since you knew Dean, he genuinely looked nervous. You could sense he wanted to kiss you, but given the fact that you were grieving, he looked unsure of what to do. A little smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, as you reached up and pressed your lips to his as a way of letting him know he could.

Many have I loved, and many times been bitten  
Many times I’ve gazed along the open road

Many times I’ve lied, and many times I’ve listened  
Many times I’ve wondered how much there is to know

“You, uh, you alright—”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me already,” again you reached up and grabbed the eldest Winchester by the scruff of his neck. Dean’s kiss was soft and wanting as his fingers absently ran along the top of your pants. With each beat of the song, he pressed his lips against you trying to kiss you deeper, while your hands lightly caressed the skin bared at the small of his back

Many dreams come true  
And some have silver linings

I live for my dream  
And a pocket full of gold

As the music began to swell, you could feel Dean’s weight shift as he rolled on top of you. He ran his fingers along the side of your body until he gently took your hands and brought them to rest gently above your head, pinning them down with one of his. He kissed you harder, unable to hide how badly he wanted more, and you could feel your body responding to his.

Mellow is the man who knows what he’s been missing  
Many, many men can’t see the open road

 

Dean trailed desperate kisses down the length of your chin, to your neck. Turning your head to give him more of yourself, you caught the glimpse of the phone on the table that was playing the song. It had returned to your background again where a picture of you and Harley from the day before the fated Halloween party taunted you.

You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You wanted to lose yourself in Dean and forget about what it meant to be a hunter and live that life. Closing your eyes, you let him continue to use his mouth along every inch of your neck and chest.

Dean’s hand tugged at the top of your pants, and you wanted nothing more than for him to rip them down, but you knew at that moment, it wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

“Dean,” you ran your hands down his back and tried to gently nudge his face back up to yours. “Dean wait… please.”

Lifting his head from your neck, his uncertain expression caused you to feel guilty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him, just the opposite in fact. But you didn’t want him to just be a vehicle to take the grief away. Dean was more than that, or at least you thought he had the potential to be.

“I want you, I do. So much, but I just—”

Leaning back only slightly, the way he looked at you made a swarm of butterflies flood your chest. 

“Y/N, it’s okay, I get it. You don’t have to say anything else.”

Dean settled back down on the bed so he was spooning you, his embrace tight and welcoming.

“I think I may take you up on the offer to stay a while,” you said, closing your eyes at the feeling of his breath on your cheek.

“That’s good, you shouldn’t be alone now. Staying here with me and Sam, that’s just a smart choice.”

“Alright, easy boy. I already said I was going to stay,” you chuckled but behind it was a feeling of relief knowing that you wouldn’t have to grieve Harley alone. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay with me in here tonight? The idea of being alone…”

“I’m not going anywhere Y/N. Besides, Zeppelin’s on the radio and this mattress is way better than mine.”

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and did your best to push your grief over losing your cousin away enough to sleep while wrapped in Dean’s arms.


	3. Hooked on a Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of 'Over the Hills', the reader is staying with Sam and Dean at the bunker for a while. Dean finally works up the nerve to ask her out on a proper date, but Sam and Castitel try their best to throw a wrench in Dean's plans.

The bunker was cold in the mornings. You had mentioned it once and the next day Dean returned from a quick outing with a brand-new bathrobe and pair of slippers. Being cute, he chose a pair of ninja turtle slippers for you, but secretly you didn’t hate them.

Waking up before Dean was never unusual, but being up before Sam was not something that had happened in the three weeks you had been staying with the Winchesters. Sam was up with coffee made and breakfast on the counter most mornings, to which you were always grateful.

As you made your way down the hallway, you realized that the kitchen was still dark, and the smell of the perking caffeine was not in the air. Flipping on the light, you stood with your hands on your hips and wondered where the youngest Winchester was.

Your stomach began to growl while you were putting the coffee on, and decided to return the favor and make the guys a nice big breakfast. Pulling your cell phone from your robe pocket, you turned on your favorite playlist and let it play. Getting all the ingredients out, you went about making breakfast and enjoying the music.

Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede queued up and you hit the volume up a few decibels. With the stove going and oven on for the croissants, the kitchen became warm enough to take off your robe. You threw it over one of the stools, and dancing to the music, moved about the kitchen preparing a big breakfast.

Ooga-chaka Ooga-Ooga  
Ooga-chaka Ooga-Ooga

Cracking the eggs into the bowl, you moved the whisk to the beat of the song and when the lyrics kicked in, you didn’t try to stop from singing along.

I can’t stop this feeling  
Deep inside of me  
Girl, you just don’t realize  
What you do to me

Pouring the eggs into the pan, and laying the bacon into the other, the aromas of morning filled up the kitchen causing your stomach to growl louder. You were so wrapped up in cooking and the song, you didn’t hear Dean shuffle his way into the entry of the kitchen.

 

 

The music wasn’t the thing that had woken him, but it was what finally got his feet out of bed and on the floor. It was the allure of the coffee and bacon sizzling that prompted him to head straight to the kitchen. Dean could hear her singing along to the music and felt the grin unravel across his lips.

Stopping right outside of the entry, he watched her move around the room with abandon, swaying her hips to the music and singing along. Her (y/h/l) (y/h/c) hair still messy from sleep, and wearing the t-shirt he’d lent her when she first came to stay, Dean watched her quietly, the smile never fading.

Y/N had become his favorite part of being home. She was only supposed to stay long enough to weather the fallout from the shifter hunt and grieve for Harley. After a week, she seemed to be dealing with everything and when she offered to go, Dean’s scrambled for a reason to get her to stay.

He was surprised by the reaction he had to the notion of her leaving. Somehow, he convinced her to hang there a bit longer and when she saw that even Sam was on his side, she decided to stay.

Lost in thought, Dean didn’t hear Sam coming down the hallway. A hand clamped down on his shoulder causing Dean to jump and clutch his chest. Sam snorted a laugh and shook his head.

“What are you doing?” Sam peaked into the kitchen and saw Y/N still grooving to the music. “Ah, being a stalker, I see.”

“Shut up, am not,” Dean looked away quickly, trying to avoid his brother’s gaze. “Just didn’t want to interrupt, she’s clearly having a good time in there…” he trailed off as he glanced back into the kitchen, the smirk playing on his lips again.

“Right, whatever you say, Dean. I don’t get why you don’t just ask her out. She’s been here for weeks you guys clearly have something going on. What’s the problem?”

“Just… shut up Sam,” Dean grumbled and walked into the kitchen.

 

image  
“Hey,” Dean said loudly so you could hear him over the music.

Spinning around with an egg covered spatula in your hand, you greeted the brothers with a nod and smile.

“Morning boys, breakfast will be ready in a minute. Coffee’s on if you want some,” you said and motioned to the carafe on the table with your chin and went back to the eggs.

Sam cleared his throat loudly and when Dean threw him a warning glance, Sam stifled a laugh and went about pouring coffee.

When the food was eaten, and plates were cleared, Sam’s cell came to life. Unsure of the number, he answered and quickly excused himself to take the call. Dean helped you clear the plates to the sink and continued to hover once everything was washed and put away.

“So, uh, what’s on your plan for the day?” Dean asked leaning on the counter, watching you pour the last of the coffee into your cup.

“Not sure, why? Need me to do something?”

“No, I, uh… well,” Dean stood up straight again, and you noticed that he was more fidgety than normal.

“You alright? Maybe you should cut back to decaf in the mornings,” you teased and reached for his coffee cup which he quickly moved out of your reach.

“You don’t mess with a man’s coffee Y/N, that’s just bad hoodoo,” Dean sipped from the cup and ran his tongue across his bottom lip before placing it back down.

“Maybe Sam caught a case, he took off out of here quick,” you were half paying attention to Dean and walked to the table to grab your bathroom from the back of the chair.

When you turned, Dean was standing in front of you, close enough to make you feel slightly uncomfortable, yet excited at the idea of being within such intimate proximity.

“Actually,” Dean paused and cleared his throat, “I was wondering if maybe, uh, you’d want to go out…”

“Need me to run some errands or something?” you asked nervously. Leaving the bunker wasn’t exactly easy for you. Even though you’d planned on leaving much earlier, every time you thought about being out there on your own again, the anxiety started to be too much.

“No, well… maybe,” he said, the corner of Dean’s mouth flickering into a little smile, and you could tell that he was nervous. “I mean, would you wanna maybe go out… with me?”

The last word hung in the air as Sam burst into the room, an excited look on his face.

“Got us a case, grab your stuff and let’s go,” he said looking at Dean and back to you.

“Dude, we’re having a conversation here,” Dean huffed, giving Sam his best “what the fuck” face.

“Dean, it’s a case… Jodi has something for us…” Sam paused as the realization of what Dean was doing washed over him. “You know what, never mind. I can handle this one, why don’t you just stay here and uh, do what you’re doing.”

“If you have to go work…” you started and stopped when Dean shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. Sam can handle whatever it is. Right, Sam?”

“Yeah, absolutely. It’s a simple poltergeist I think. Jodi and I can handle it,” Sam said with confidence, folding his arms over his chest and smiling at Dean. “Besides, I can always call on Cas, too. He’s been oddly available, lately.” Sam shrugged and went to leave. Hanging on the door frame as he turned left down out the doorway, he called back, “have fun kids!”

Feeling a slight blush rise in your cheeks, you laughed nervously and turned back to Dean. “You sure you don’t wanna go with him?”

“I’d rather stay here,” he said, passing a curiously look to you, “if you wanna… that is.”

“I do, wanna go out with you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “It’s just… this sounds stupid, but I’m not really comfortable leaving the bunker, yet. I’m sorry, Dean—”

Dean took your hand in both of his and smiled in only the way Dean could. “It’s fine. We can have our first real date here.”

“Really?” you asked, somewhat sarcastically yet relishing in the way your hand felt in his.

“Sure. I mean, what’s the point of having a super cool secret bunker if you can’t make some modifications for date night,” Dean chuckled and nervously licked his bottom lip. “So, tonight? I’ll swing by your room around seven?”

Drawing in a deep breath, you could feel your knees starting to quiver as you exhaled. “Sounds perfect.”

 

It’s not like you hadn’t already kissed him. In fact, you and Dean had fooled around several times since that first night at Harley’s party. You usually ended up putting on the brakes, or got interrupted and never were able to get back to where things were headed. Then, as you settled into life at the bunker and Dean was out on more and more hunts, things had sort of stalled between you.

You felt your nerves starting to take control and remembered the breathing exercises you learned while posing as a Yoga teacher in New Hope chasing down the Djinn a few years back. Passing by the mirror while pacing the room, you paused for a second and took one last look at yourself before hearing the knock at the door.

Swallowing hard, you exhaled one more shaky breath before opening the door. Dean stood in front of you, with a small bouquet of cellophane-wrapped flowers and a bag of M&Ms. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him standing there, hands full with gifts of adoration and a goofy smile on his face.

“Hi,” you said, trying to quell the butterflies that suddenly came alive in your stomach.

“Hey. Uh, here… I got you these,” Dean handed the flowers and candy towards you. “I went up to the Stop and Go up the road to get some stuff, for tonight… They didn’t have boxes of candy, but who doesn’t love the candy that melts in your mouth and not your hands.”

Dean was rambling, and you didn’t really want him to stop. Seeing him behave as nervous as you felt, somehow helped settle you.

“Its perfect, thank you.”

You smiled at him and felt the swell of excitement as he held out his elbow for you to link into.

“Ready?”

“We’re going somewhere?” You felt nervous again until Dean shook his head.

“No, I threw a little something together here,” he said leading you from your room and down the hallway.

Walking down the metal staircase to the lower level of the bunker, Dean pulled you to a stop outside one of the warehouse doors.

“Close your eyes,” he said excitedly as a large grin sprawled across his lips.

“Really?”

“Yes, dammit, I worked very hard on this and feel it deserves a big reveal,” he said, his face unreadable as to whether he was really joking. “Eyes, closed. Or I don’t open the door.”

“Jeez, Winchester. You’re bossy.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said more to himself than to you, “C’mon woman, close ‘em.”

Sighing, you did as commanded. When he was sure you weren’t peaking, Dean took you by the hand and you heard him open the large, heavy doors. He guided you into the room which was much warmer than the last time you had been in there. Coming to a stop, he took the Stop and Go loot from your hands and cleared his throat.

“Ok, you can open them.”

You opened your eyes, unsure of what to expect, but found yourself speechless at the transformation of the storage room. Thick, black, velvet drapery covered the concrete walls, lined with soft white Christmas lights, casting a soft illumination to the room.

Taking it all in, you continued to notice little touches he thought of and added. The normally bare and cold floor was covered with a variety of rugs, blankets, and pillows were strewn about. In the middle of the space was a chabudai-style table with two large pillows next to each other on one side.

The smell of food began wafting through the room, and that’s when you noticed the spread Dean had laid out for your date. Along the left wall, he had put out all your favorites from the local take places.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a little of everything,” Dean said, a nervous chuckle caught in his throat. “Hope this is okay.”

You turned to tell him that it was more than okay, that it was perfect until you spotted the large white sheet covering the far wall.

“What’s that for?”

“Oh, yeah!” Dean darted behind you and pulled out a cart from the corner that had an old projector attached. “Thought we could watch a few movies. Sam figured out how to hook up the laptop to it—”

Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him square on the mouth. He didn’t freeze or hesitate. Dean didn’t miss a beat in wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back greedily. Putting your hands on either side of his face, you pulled back gently but leaving your face close to his.

“It’s fucking perfect, Dean. It couldn’t be more perfect,” you said and paused as a thought crossed your mind, “unless…” you escaped his embrace and stepped over to look at the stack of movies he’d chosen as potential options.

As you looked through the stack, you eased a little at some of his selections. Easy Rider, Reservoir Dogs, The Departed, and Dirty Dancing… You stopped and picked up the case, holding it up to him with a curious smirk.

“Really?”

“What? It’s Swayze.”

“But… Dirty Dancing?”

“Hey… It’s Swayze. He’ll ALWAYS get a pass. How can you not like that movie? She’s hot, he’s cool. What’s the problem?

“No problem really, just surprised you would pick it out, Swayze or not.”

“Well, he’s bad ass in everything. Oh, speaking of…” Dean reached around you to the bottom of the stack of DVDs, “how can you not love this movie?”

Dean holding up an old copy of Road House with a giant grin was just what you needed to finally feel completely relaxed. His smile alone was enough to make you feel at ease, but having your usual banter was what you needed the most. All day your mind had been flooding with what it would feel like to be on a “date” with Dean. Would it be awkward? What if you had nothing to talk about? What if he tried to kiss you and you turned your head at the wrong time?

This… this felt right. It felt natural and you were excited to spend the night sitting close to him, eating a bunch of food and watching a great mix of movies.

“Ok, fine. We can definitely pick a Swayze movie. As long as we can also watch Reservoir Dogs, too. I had the soundtrack on this morning and I have an itch to watch it now.”

“I remember, that’s why I picked it,” Dean’s shining green eyes caught your (y/c/e) ones, the way they were taking you in caused that flutter deep down in your core. “This morning, I mean. I recognized the soundtrack and thought you’d want to watch it.”

“I didn’t realize you noticed,” you said softly, enjoying the swell of electricity growing in the air.

“I notice everything about you,” Dean took a step closer to you and lightly brushed a thumb against your cheek. He was leaning in to kiss you, a breath away from your lips again when the tinny sound of Smoke on the Water began playing from Dean’s pocket.

Yanking the phone from his pocket with a grunt of frustration, he saw Sam’s name flashing and answered it.

“What?” he snapped and offered you an apologetic smile. You watched as he listened to Sam, his eyes rolling back a few times and passing a grunt of acknowledgment now and again.

Dean was pacing around the room mumbling something to Sam, his hands animated in frustration.

“Sam. Sam… Sa—” he stopped pulled the phone from his ear and hung his head. Putting the phone back to his ear, he finally got his moment to speak. “Sam, dude. It’s my night off. If you and Jodi can’t handle a simply haunt… yeah, yeah, ok, poltergeist, then why are you even in the business. C’mon, man. You guys got this. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes, ok?”

He paused again and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright… alright. I’ll call him. Yeah…” Dean held the phone away from his head again suddenly. “Jerk hung up on me.”

“What the hell is going on?” you asked, curious and nervous at the same time.

“He needs me to call Cas. Apparently, he isn’t answering for Sam,” he sighed and shrugged in frustration. “I’m sorry about this, it’ll just be a—”

Dean paused when he saw your face change from concerned to smiling.

“What?”

“Turn around,” you said and motioned with your chin.

Dean turned and jumped at the sight of Castiel standing behind him.

“Hello, Dean. I thought it was your ‘night off,” Cas said, using his fingers to dramatically quote the last two words.

“It is,” Dean growled with a smile, “however, my brother seems to need your assistance and for some reason, you weren’t answering.”

“That’s strange. I didn’t hear his call. What does he need?”

“I don’t know man, call him, fly there… pull an I Dream of Genie moment and alakazam your way to Sioux Falls. He’s with Jodi on a poltergie—”

Cas was gone as quickly as he appeared.

“Seriously?” Dean griped, throwing his hands up in the air. “I swear, these two are going to be the death of me one day.”

Rubbing his forehead in frustration, you couldn’t help but find it all sort of funny. You slipped an arm around his neck, causing him to refocus on you and try to forget Sam and Castiel.

“I’m sure, whatever is going on, they got it covered,” you said, ghosting his nose with yours.

“They better,” Dean mumbled as he roughly ran his hands down the length of your sides, landing on your hips. Pulling you into him, he kissed you softly. “They damn well better. We should eat before it gets cold.”

“Mhm, I am starving!”

As enticing as Dean was himself, the smell of the food had become overwhelming. He had gone all out and grabbed your favorite meals from all your favorite restaurants. Overwhelmed by the options, you filled up a plate with a little bit of everything and sat down on the cushions near the table.

After queueing up a movie and fixing a plate, Dean joined you a moment later with a large grin on his face.

“Thought we would start with your pick,” he said with a nod of reassurance. “If you don’t mind…”

“Perfect,” you smiled back, giving him a little wink that caused his cheeks to flush red.

Settling in for Reservoir Dogs, you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed with a rush of affection for the eldest Winchester.

Dean was fun. He was more fun than any other guy you had known. Which, was not only rare for the men in your life, but for a hunter, period. Any of the other hunter’s you’d known before meeting Dean were salty, grouchy and more than a little lacking in the empathy department. Dean was different. The more time you spent with him at the bunker, the more time you came to appreciate all the little quirks you had noticed about him.

The way he always made sure you were comfortable and warm when the bunker got cold. Dean checked in on you every day, whether he was there or not. It was more than just the way he took care of you but in his daily routines and nuances. The way he shooed Sam from the kitchen while cooking dinner, or the look of concentration he would get while reading some Latin text. It was the way you would hear him singing in the garage as he wiped the Impala down after a hunt, or how he would smile watching one of his favorite movies.

With the movie half gone and both of your plates clean, you sat up on your knees and pushed the table up some to give you more room. Dean sat up straighter as you did and watched you curiously, while behind you the movie rolled on right into the scene where Blue Swede was featured on “K Billy’s Super Sounds of the 70’s” radio show.

He extended both legs out and neither of you could contain the grins that rolled out on your faces, as you casually straddled his lap. Taking his face in yours, you leaned down and kissed him. Dean’s hand snaked up and under the back of your shirt, the contact of his fingers directly on your skin felt warm and welcoming.

The rough flesh of his hands pawed at your bra strap, which he had undone in seconds. Dean’s mouth pressed down on yours with such force, it nearly knocked you back into the table, only his arms stopping you from doing so. Your hands were seconds away from tearing the T-shirt from your body when the sound of air rushing past stopped you. Opening your eyes and pulling back from Dean’s kiss, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Cas standing casually near the projector.

“Oh fuck!” you shouted and folded yourself into Dean.

“Hello again,” Cas said flatly. “Dean, Sam needs a book on some kind of HooDoo Magic.”

“Cas!” Dean barked and turned his head as much as he could. “C’mon, man!”

“Sorry, he just said to come back and ask you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean complained as you removed yourself from his lap. “This is getting old you know.”

Just as he stood up, the same sound and vibration erupted from the pocket of his jeans again. Dean hung his head for a moment before throwing it back and looking towards the ceiling.

“C’MON!” he yelled and pulled the phone from his pocket. “What?!”

“How are you?” Castiel asked as you sat back down on the cushions, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“Fine, Cas. Yourself?”

From behind him, you could hear Dean speaking to Sam, and you were more than curious as to what that was about.

“Well, to be honest—"

“Sorry, no time for small talk,” Dean clapped a hand on Castiel’s back. “That was Sam, he doesn’t need the book. And,” his hand came down tightly on the angel’s shoulder, though it really had no effect on him, “you and my brother can stop with this little game.”

“Game? I don’t understand, what game?”

“The one where Sam keeps sending you in to screw with me. He can continue the prank shit another day. Tonight is my night off!”

“Alright then. I’ll head back to Sam and we can finish the hunt.”

“Great. Fine. Just, do me a favor, ok? Stay there. You and Sam are both officially barred from this home until tomorrow.”

“Dean, I…”

“It’s fine, Cas. Alright? Just go, please.”

With that, Castiel had left the building.

The frustration had been growing and you knew that you were not going to let another night with him get derailed. Standing up slowly, your walked over to Dean and didn’t say anything. Carefully, you took his shirt by the hem and lifted it from his head. You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips touched his chest, right at the bottom of his anti-possession tattoo.

image  
“You seem tense, Dean. I think it’s time we did something about that,” you said between the longing kisses you trailed down his chest towards his abs. Another wave of warm breath slipped between his lips as his hands got tangled in your hair.

Dean abruptly pulled your head back and stared at you with hungry, lustful eyes before swallowing your mouth with his own. His hands left your tangled mess of hair and went to the shirt he’d been working on removing before Castiel popped in.

Throwing your shirt across the room, Dean picked you up and quickly but gently laid you down on the floor of pillows and blankets, burying his face and mouth on your neck, while his hands lightly caressed the soft flesh around your nipples.

The hard bulge beneath his jeans was pressing into your skin, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted him inside you. Sliding your nails up his back, you felt Dean shiver above you.

Dean reluctantly pulled back from you, leaning up just enough to take you in.

“God damn,” he whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before sitting up on his knees. He fumbled with the button of your jeans before helping you shimmy out of them, along with your underwear, and leaving you completely naked and at his mercy.

He stood and slowly worked at taking off his own jeans, never breaking the gaze he held with you. Dean swallowed thickly as he kicked them off, along with his boots. Positioning himself back between your legs, he lightly ran his palms from the top of your knees down along the outside of your thighs.

Dean leaned down and kissed the inside of your leg and didn’t stop until he was a breath away from the place you ached for him most of all.

“You sure?” he asked hesitantly, though you could see his eyes pleaded with you to say yes.

“God yes, stop stalling Winchester… before your angel reappears needing a spell or something,” you were laughing, but he saw past your humor to the lust seething beneath.

Plunging his head to your thighs, he teased at your folds with his lips until it drove you crazy. With both hands you grabbed his head, pushing him down into you causing a guttural sort of release with him. Taking you in greedily, Dean did not disappoint as he worked the throbbing parts of your sex.

Arching your back and bucking your hips, his large hands came up to your stomach to pin you back down. As good as he was at drinking you in, you needed to feel him inside you.

“Dean… stop,” you mewed as you watched him lick and suck at your pussy. “Get up here and fuck me.”

Peering up at you from between your legs, you caught glimpse of his sparkling green eyes and the devious look glowing in them. With one last, long lick of your sex, Dean sat back to take in one last look at you before hovering over your body.

Positioning himself between your legs, the tip of his erection felt hard and wonderful as it gently slid into you. Dean was hesitant at first, but the minute your eyes closed and your head rolled back, he grinned and thrust into you as deeply as he could.

You inhaled sharply as he moved his body into yours, slowly at first. Even though there was the threat of being interrupted by Sam and Cas, Dean was taking his time with you. His head hung down into your neck, his breath hot on your ear.

Slowly the one hand that wasn’t propping him up above you grabbed at your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers before he lifted his head and took it in his mouth. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moved your hips so he could fill you completely. With each hard thrust, he did just that.

“Shit! Dean… I’m gonna…” your words were swallowed by his mouth on yours, his tongue penetrating your mouth and assaulting your own.

He was getting close too, you could feel the throbbing of his cock inside you, and you had a split second of worry about not having any protection. Before the thought could even completely finish you felt your rush of release ripple through you, right along with his.

“Unn… fuck!” Dean growled into your mouth as he quickly slipped out of you, leaving his mess as a coating on the inside of your thighs. “Shit… I’m sorry.”

Grabbing his face with both hands, you kissed him through your smile. “It’s fine, Dean… it’s fine.”

“You okay?” he asked, a playful smirk at the corner of his mouth. “I mean, you good?”

“Oh yeah, you did good babe. Real good,” you teased him as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Next time, maybe we’ll make it to the bed,” Dean joked and reluctantly peeled himself from you before extending a hand to help you up.

Behind him, the movie was rolling its credits as you bent down to grab your shirt off the floor.

“We missed the movie,” you teased as you slipped cotton t-shirt back over your head.

Dean laughed as he pulled his jeans back on and threw a glance over his shoulder to see the credits. “I guess we did. Sorry, got distracted,” he said with a wink.

“Distracted… that’s one way to put it,” you shook your head and gathered up the rest of your clothes. “So, I’m just gonna clean up real quick, but, um… when I get back… round 2?”

“Already? Jesus woman… who do you think I am?”

“I meant food and a movie you twit,” you said, giving him a playful smack on the chest.

“Oh, yeah, that. Absolutely that can happen. I’m not really ready for this night to be over quite yet.”

Dean ran his hands up and down your arms gently before pulling you into a kiss. His fingers were almost ghosts on your skin as they traveled up and lovingly held your neck as you lost yourself in his lips again. Though only a couple minutes had passed, you could feel yourself want him again and pulled back, licking your lips.

“You keep kissing me like that, Winchester, and there will be a round 2 and 3 of the other thing…” you stepped back from him with a suggestive smile and walked towards the door.

“Wait! That’s not a bad thing Y/N! I swear, I just need a minute!” he called out as you continued walking away.

“I’ll be right back!” you yelled from down the hallway as you ran back up to your room to clean up from round one and get on some comfortable clothes.

 

Dean was humming Hooked On a Feeling, to himself as he was tidying up around the table. He wanted to get it ready for when she got back to make a second attempt at dinner and a movie when the sound of air rushed by his ears. The familiar whoosh caused him to roll his eyes and as he turned he had already formulated a speech to Cas about the benefits of privacy.

When he finally spotted the angel, his eyes grew wide in terror as not only Castiel but Sam, beaten and bloody, were barely holding themselves up by the projector.

“What the hell?” Dean asked, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head. “What happened to him?”

“Dean,” Sam coughed, a bit of blood spraying from his mouth, “We have a serious problem.”


	4. Ain't No Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the song "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers. Dean and the reader experience the aftermath of their date. Dean has to deal with what happened to Sam while out on a hunt with Jodi, and the reader gets a call from an old friend about a problem that needs attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All incantations are copied from SuperWiki

“What kind of serious problem?” Dean asked, his eyes still wide with shock as he surveyed his best friend and his brother.

Sam went to answer but doubled over with a pain in his gut.

“Cas, can you heal him?” Dean pleaded with the angel who wasn’t looking so great himself.

“I can… I think I can,” he lifted his hand from the arm he was gripping, and Dean could see a pinprick of brilliant white light escaping from his coat.

“Cas… are you—”

“I’m fine. Just a little scrap of an angel blade,” Castiel mumbled and turned his attention to Sam. Placing two of his fingers to the youngest Winchester’s forehead, he mustered up every ounce of grace he had and flooded Sam with the healing he so desperately needed.

When he pulled back, Sam’s wounds were gone. The only evidence of his ordeal was the blood stains on his shirt. Castiel stumbled slightly before grabbing onto the projector to steady himself.

“Maybe you should sit, Cas,” Dean said reaching out to help hold him up.

“I’m fine,” he said clearing his throat. “I’ll mend it. But, Dean…” Castiel paused and offered Sam a knowing look. With his brow furrowed, he met Dean’s gaze again. The expression he wore caused Dean a moment of uncertainty as he looked back and forth between them.

“What?” he barked sharply with a shrug of his shoulders. “What the hell aren’t you telling me?”

“Dean, it’s a long story,” Sam started to explain but Dean waved him off.

“Nope, not gonna give me that line, Sam. Start at the very beginning,” Dean insisted and folded his arms across his chest.

Sighing, Sam hung his head and smirked. “I was screwing with you today man, and I’m sorry. That case with Jodi, it was nothing. I mean, there was a poltergeist, but we had it done quick. She asked where you were, and I told her you took the night off to go on a date.”

“So, all the phone calls, sending Cas in… was just you messing with me,” Dean said with a smile that was nothing close to friendly. “Of course, I should’ve known. We’ll get back to that in a minute. Fast forward to the part where you end up bloody and Cas is pierced by an angel blade.”

“Jodi and I were having lunch in this diner. She had to go, so I walked her out to her cruiser and she may have suggested that I try to get Cas to pop in on your date,” Sam said, not without a smile, prompting Dean to shift his weight and throw him a daring look.

Clearing his throat, Sam continued. “Right, so when Cas came to me, I sent him back for some random book I didn’t need. It’s when he came back again…”

“I found Sam being mauled by the demons,” Castiel spoke up. Now having healed himself, he appeared to be at full strength again “Just as I returned to the diner, there were several demons beating on Sam, trying to elicit information.”

“What kind of information?” Dean asked.

“They wanted to know where (Y/N) was,” Sam replied cautiously.

“Wait, what?” Dean snarked.

“They kept speaking of a prophecy that had been rumbling throughout hell,” Cas said before moving across the room towards the table of food and mess of blankets and pillows on the floor. “Dean, I don’t know how to say this delicately, but did you and (Y/N) have relations here?”

Castiel looked up at Dean with a raised brow and Dean was physically taken aback by the question. He felt his face flush red and then felt slightly annoyed by Cas’ inquiry.

“Relations?” Dean’s own expression spoke volumes to Castiel and he sighed in return.

“Yes, coitus… relations. Sex—”

“Yeah, alright Cas, I get it,” Dean grunted and waved him off. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” His green eyes flicked between Sam and then back to Cas as they shared another telling look. “I swear if one of you don’t start talking…”

“The demons, they were saying something about (Y/N) and her child,” Sam said reluctantly. He studied Dean’s face as it twisted into a series of expressions that ended with him relatively speechless.

Dean closed his eyes and held his hand against his forehead then rubbing his face as if to clear the fog. “You guys need to back up and start again because I am beyond confused. You were in some diner with Jodi, screwing with me, and then demons attacked you, and Cas apparently. Oh, and they not only had an angel blade,” he paused motioning towards the tear in Castiel’s coat, “but now they want my girlfriend?”

“Your girlfriend?” Sam asked, ignoring the rest.

Dean held up his finger as a warning and Sam stifled a snicker despite the situation. “Shut up,” he warned and looked back to Cas. “First of all, (Y/N) doesn’t have any kids. Secondly, demons lie. All the time. Maybe they are just trying to get to her, to get to me. Us. Whatever.”

“Dean, if that was the case…”

A noise from the doors of the room caught his attention, all of them turning towards it as (Y/N) came into the room.

 

xx

 

Approaching the converted storage space, you had heard both Sam and Castiel talking to Dean. Surprised to hear their voices, you paused before entering. Just as you were about to walk in you heard your name pass through Sam’s lips. With the large heavy doors closed, you couldn’t make out a lot of what they were saying, but you knew it was about you. Giving them another minute or two, you took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. 

Dean, Sam, and Castiel were standing between the projector and the table still set up with food. You offered them all a smile and nod as you casually strolled in and stood near Dean.

“When did you guys get back?” you asked, then noticed the blood on Sam’s shirt. “Holy shit! Are you alright?” you grabbed at his shirt frantically to try and see the wounds.

Smiling, Sam covered your hands with his to calm you. “I’m fine, (Y/N). Cas healed me.”

“Ok, good. Castiel, are you alright? You’re looking less angelic now, than usual.”

“Recouping, but fine, thank you.”

“So, what happened?” you asked looking at Dean and Sam for an answer. When neither of them started talking you knew then that they weren’t going to continue their conversation from before you walked in.

“Long story,” Dean finally spoke up. You didn’t miss the warning look he quickly passed along to Sam and Castiel either.

“Actually, (Y/N), you should know—” Sam started but was cut off by Dean.

“That Sam and Cas stumbled onto another case that they really need a hand with now.”

“Oh,” you said with a shrug, trying to ignore the bit you did before walking in. “Alright. Well, why don’t you go ahead and do what you gotta. I have some stuff upstairs I’d like to take care of before heading to bed.”

“You sure?” he asked, the disappointment clearly written on his face that your night had come to such an abrupt end.

You nodded and turned away from Sam and Cas. “Yeah, its fine, really. Why don’t you come by my room later, when you’re done, and we can finish up our date?”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Dean asked, the distress fading into modeled excitement.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” you purred, reaching out and lightly touching his arm. “I’ll see you later then?”

“God yes,” he said and licked his lower lip. “You better believe I will.”

Giving him a wink, you turned and headed towards the door. You lifted your hand to wave over your shoulder at Sam and Cas.

“Goodnight boys,” you sang, right before heading out of the room and back up to the main floor.

 

xx

 

For several hours Dean, Sam and Castiel stood in the converted storage and discussed the possibility of what the demons wanted with her. Dean had them each repeat their story several times over to the point where even the angel that didn’t need sleep was exhausted.

Castiel cleared his throat while Sam was during his fifth recount. “Dean, this is doing us no good. I am going back up to heaven to see if I can find out anything there about this potential prophecy.”

“Cas, there is no prophecy,” Dean snapped, the last word dripping with sarcasm. “It’s just bullshit. I’m telling you… those demons are up to something else.”

“Maybe Dean’s right. It’s just a coincidence that you and (Y/N) were getting together while this happened. Right?” Sam mused with a tick of his head, a move Dean knew meant his brother was bordering on sarcastic and examining the possibility.

“I don’t know man. I just think that they were using you to get to her for whatever reason. Remember, she had those vamps on her tail for months. Maybe it’s the same thing, huh? Maybe she pissed off some demons that were looking to get a little revenge.” Dean said and shrugged, choosing to believe this over any other possibility.

“Still, I’d rather be sure,” Castiel said before disappearing from the room with a warm whoosh of air.

“After all this time, I still hate when he does that,” Dean mumbled and shook his head. When he caught Sam’s gaze, threw his hands up, “What?”

“Look, we aren’t going to get anywhere tonight. It’s late and I am beat. Let’s pick this up again in the morning, alright?”

Dean knew he was right, and if he was being truthful with himself, he was ready to head up to (Y/N)’s room and crawl into bed next to her. His memory flashed on their earlier romp and he felt a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s fine Sam. We’ll talk more in the morning. Just do me a favor. Stay in the bunker, ok? Until we know really what is happening, we need to stay here and figure it all out.”

“I agree. There were a lot of them Dean. More than I’ve seen bunched together in a long time. If Cas hadn’t shown up when he did… I don’t want to think of what would’ve happened.”

Dean clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Me either man. Me either.”

 

xx

 

A soft knock at your door made you sit up on the bed. Smiling, you swung your legs to the ground and crossed the room to open it. Dean was leaning against the frame and his face lit up when his eyes met yours.

“Hey,” he said, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes appearing as his lips wrapped into a smile. “You’re still up.”

“I am. I was waiting for you,” you moved aside so he could come in, closing and locking the door behind him. “Everything ok with Sam and Castiel?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. I mean, there’s a little demon problem but nothing we can’t figure out.”

“Need an extra pair of hands?”

“No, its fine really.”

“Are you sure? I mean I don’t have much experience with demons, only crossed one once, no, sorry. Twice. But I can certainly handle a simple exorcism.”

Dean released a sigh of relief and smiled. He placed his hands on your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to him. “If its all the same to you, can we leave all that for tomorrow?”

He was a breath away from your lips, and you found that you suddenly couldn’t even remember what you had just been talking about. Nodding lightly, you closed the distance between you and brought your lips to his. Dean smiled and kissed you through it.

Pulling back slightly and biting your bottom lip, your (y/e/c/) eyes found his and you suddenly felt the weight of what you saw there.

“What?” you asked nearly breathless.

“I don’t know,” he said and brushed a thumb against your cheek, “I just look at you, and I feel… a lot.”

“Aw, Dean, are you sweet on me?” you teased, but his expression didn’t falter.

He swallowed hard and it made you nervously excited. “I’m not kidding.”

“I can tell,” you tried to smile, but you were still reeling over the intensity his green eyes held as they caressed your face and your neck, lingering on your lips and traveling down your chest.

“(Y/N), what happened earlier… I’ve wanted that for a while now,” he smiled, a sweet yet slightly embarrassed grin.

“I have too, since the party really,” you admitted, feeling good about being able to finally tell him. “I’m really glad you came back. I was sad to see the night end so soon.”

“Like I was gonna let that happen. Besides, Sam and Cas needed to take care of a few things, and I wasn’t exactly ready to go to sleep, so…”

“So… here you are.”

“Mhm, exactly,” Dean leaned in and kissed you again.

You kissed him greedily in return and allowed him to push you back towards the bed. Ready to give into whatever urges he had, you pulled back and looked at him with a bit of panic,

“Sam… Cas… you sure they’re busy? I mean… where’s your phone? They aren’t gonna pop in or anything, right?”

Laughing, Dean shook his head. “Phone is in my room and Sam is asleep. Cas, well, he’s officially banned from the premises until morning and he knows it.”

“Yeah, you sure about that?” you couldn’t help but tease considering how most of the evening had gone.

“Oh yeah,” he drew in a deep breath and nodded frantically, “he’s been warned.”

Not giving you a chance to retort, Dean pressed his lips to yours and the force was enough to crash you back onto the bed. Within minutes, both of your clothes were in a heap on the floor, and you were enacting the second part of your date.

Dean took his time with you, kissing and touching every part of your body. Exploring all the soft, delicate places with the attention you ached for him to give you. When he was finally ready to slip into you, you inhaled sharply into his ear, eliciting a hum of satisfaction deep within his chest.

Throughout the night, you would come together and fall apart exhausted. Every so often you would catch the way he was looking at you and think back to the little bit you overheard at the storage room doors. But in no way, did you want to disrupt the amazing night you were spending with the eldest Winchester.

Deciding to let it go, you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder, as his arm wrapped around you. Dean’s thumb rubbed light circles on the top of your arm while you whispered to each other well until the night, only falling asleep as the sun peaked over the horizon.

Several hours later, you woke and reached to where Dean was supposed to be laying only to find an empty space. Looking around, you saw his clothes were gone with no sign of a note or any trace of him at all.

The smell of coffee brewing began to seep into the room and you knew where he was. Smiling, you threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing your phone and heading down the hall to the kitchen.

Hearing Dean and Sam’s voices, and your name on their lips again, you stopped outside the entry doors to try and hear their conversation. Feeling slightly guilty about eavesdropping, you heard Dean say something that caught your attention.

“No way. I am not summoning Crowley. Not dealing with him, when it comes to her. You remember the shit he pulled before? With Lisa? I won’t let that happen with (Y/N).”

Before you could hear Sam’s response, your cell phone began buzzing in your pocket. Pulling it out you saw a familiar number flashing on your screen and reluctantly scurried down the hallway to answer it.

“Hello?” you asked just above a whisper.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah… Steve?”

“Yeah, oh man! Thank God, I found you,” he said in a panic panic-stricken voice.

“What’s up, man? It’s been a while,” you started pacing the hallway and realized the guys could probably hear you from the kitchen, so you wandered back to your room.

“Where are you?” Steve asked frantically, a trait you wouldn’t have normally associated with this particular hunter.

“Um, been staying with friends. What can I do for you, Steve?” You heard the annoyance in your own voice and cringed. Steve and Harley had once been a couple, and since she dumped him the year before, he hadn’t been around much. It never crossed your mind to reach out and tell him about your cousin’s untimely death.

“I’ve been looking for Harley. She’s not answering, so I swung by her cabin… you know the one on the lake? And it’s a damn mess.”

“What do you mean it’s a mess?” you asked and felt a panic stir in your own chest.

“I mean, it’s been ransacked. I’m scared, (Y/N). What if somethin’s got her?”

You closed your eyes and sighed. “Steve… nothing has her. Harley is…” you pushed back the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “Steve, Harley is dead. Happened about a month ago. Shifter hunt…”

Silence poured through the line, and you could hear the man start to weep. Pulling the phone back from your ear, you swiped at your eyes and tried to focus on what he said. Giving him another minute, you cleared your throat slightly and tried to find a moment in his grief to interject.

“Steve, what do you mean it was ransacked. The whole place or just her arsenal?”

Steve tried to reign in his emotions, as you waited patiently for him to answer. “Um, it was… it was the whole place. Never really made it upstairs. Saw the living room and kitchen and knew she’d never leave it like that.”

“Yeah, she was a neat freak, right?” you couldn’t help but snort a laugh at a bunch of memories that struck of Harley and her OCD tendencies.

“She’s really gone?” he asked, his voice small and pathetic.

“I’m sorry, I know you cared for her. I miss her tremendously…”

“I’m just in shock, but I knew when I seen the house. I knew it wasn’t good. You gotta come here, (Y/N) to see what’s happened. You’d know better than anyone if somethin’ important is missin’.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few hours. But, Steve… you don’t have to wait. If you have a case or something, please don’t worry about the cabin. I’ll get there and be sure to check it out as soon as possible.”

“Ok Y/N, I will do that. Was on my way to Colorado Springs to see about a Wraith. Just, be careful… ‘lright?”

“I will Steve, thanks… and again, I’m sorry about Harley. Sorry I didn’t call you…”

“It’s fine, (Y/N). I’m sorry for you losin’ your cousin. She was a fine woman.”

You were about to say goodbye, but Steve ended the call. Looking at the phone, you tried to imagine who would have gone through Harley’s house and only two answers came to mind; other hunters or a monster of some kind.

Grabbing the bag from the closet, you threw in only enough essentials for a few days. The ride to the cabin was less than half a day, and you couldn’t imagine being there for more than a day total. Not wanting to be away from Dean, you resisted on taking more in the hopes that you would be back at the bunker in no time.

Just as you placed the last rolled up shirt in your bag, the door cracked open taking your attention from packing.

Dean’s smiling face came through, holding out a cup of steaming hot coffee to you.

“Thought you might want this,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek as you happily took the coffee.

“Mhmm, you read my mind.”

Sipping greedily from the cup, you saw Dean notice the packed bag on the bed.

“What the hell?” he asked, his expression a mix of annoyance and fear. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes… and no,” you said after catching his gaze and stifled a laugh at the serious and devastated look he wore.

“What?” he asked sharply. “This is funny to you? After last night, you’re just gonna go?”

The sadness and hurt on his face caused your smile to fade. Placing your cup next to his, you lovingly took his face in your hands, and brought his lips to yours.

“I could never just up and leave you Dean. I’m just going to be gone a few days, and I’ll be back.”

“Where the hell do you have to go?”

“I have to head up to Harley’s cabin,” you paused and reconsidered telling him all of it. If he knew the place had been tossed, he’d just want to go too, and you felt that it was something you needed to face on your own. “I just started thinking… I need to go take care of everything she’s got there.”

“Now? Why now? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I really should’ve gone there after she… But, you know.”

You shrugged off the feelings that rose and waited for him to relax. When he didn’t, you couldn’t help but worry he was still upset.

“Dean…”

“Give me five minutes to grab my stuff, we’ll go—”

“No. I’m going alone. You need to stay here and deal with this demon problem, remember?”

“(Y/N), you’re not going alone,” Dean was adamant and turned for the door.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked as calmly as you could, hands on your hips and wearing an expression that stopped him in his tracks. “Listen here Winchester, if you want this’ you and me thing’ to work, you better knock that caveman shit off right now.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t understand—”

You held up a hand to stop him, and though he was taken aback, he stopped talked.

“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, Dean. If you want this… us… you need to let me be me. I am going to hunt, and I am going to do it without you from time to time. Right now, I am going to the cabin and seeing what is salvageable. YOU need to stay and help Sam with this demon thing, right?”

Dean nodded reluctantly, and when he went to speak again, your look once again made him stop.

“Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, conceding and turned back towards you. “I just worry, alright? It’s the first time you’re going back there, and you shouldn’t be alone. Not only that but—”

A knock at the door pulled both of your attention towards it as it cracked open. Sam’s face appeared with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, guys. Dean, if you’re ready, we should do that thing now.”

“No, really Sam, be more cryptic,” you said sarcastically, causing Dean to finally smile.

“God, the two of you are so much alike it’s scary,” Sam shook his head and disappeared down the hallway.

“See, you have that thing to do,” you winked and raised a playful brow at Dean.

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed you back with such force, you thought for a second you may end up back in bed. Pulling back from his mouth, you saw his eyes were still closed as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Please… please be safe. Call me, like, all the time, ok?”

“Yes dad,” you said, but there was no humor in your voice when you could see the concern filling his eyes. “Dean… what is it? Why do you look like someone just killed your puppy?”

Shaking his head, as if to clear the emotion from his throat, he smiled warily. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will. I promise.”

 

x

 

“Alright Sam, I’m here. Let’s get this over with.”

Dean tossed the bag of dried herbs onto the table where Sam had etched the sigils to summon Crowley, passing his brother a look of annoyance as he did.

“What?” Sam asked half paying attention.

“What, what?” Dean grumbled and pulled the metal legged chair out from under the desk and across the floor before falling into it. Sam cringed as the sound bounced around the hollow walls.

“What’s with you? You’re grumpy for a guy that stayed up all night having sex.”

“Shut up, Sam. Let’s just get this over with, alright?”

“Fine by me,” Sam said and finished putting the last of the ingredients into the bowl that sat atop the sigil. “Ready?”

When Dean nodded, Sam looked back to the desk where the ritual was in place, threw the lit match into the bowl and began the incantation.

“Et ad congrgandum… eos coram me,” Sam commanded as the puff of smoke from the bowl wafted back into his face.

A moment later, Crowley was standing in the center of the devil’s trap that was permanently engraved into the floor. Dressed in a sharp black suit, the King of Hell absently flicked a piece of lint from his lapel before raising his head to greet the Winchesters.

“Moose, squirrel. To what do I owe the honor?” he mused, a sardonic little smirk on his lips. “Lost your angel, again have you? Or, maybe you’ve decided to retire and live out your days in flannel ducky PJs and just wanted to say au revoir?”

“Why’d you sic your little minions on me yesterday?” Sam asked ignoring the demon’s mocking words. But when Crowley gave him a blasé raise of his brow, Sam repeated the question with more force.

“Easy boy,” Crowley purred and waved the youngest Winchester to settle down. “I actually have zero clue as to what you are talking about. My little, minions, as you called them, have been very busy its true. But I don’t recall adding a visit with Cagney and Lacey on their agenda.”

“Screw you Crowley. Why’d those black-eyed bitches attack my brother?” Dean barked, standing from the chair and positioning himself in front of the King of Hell.

“Ah, Dean. Surly as always I see,” Crowley smiled and gave the eldest Winchester a once over from head to toe. “You look different Dean. New hair gel?”

“Bite me.”

“Gladly, but you may be a little bitter for my taste,” Crowley teased.

When Dean went to lunge at him, Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the table.

“Look,” Sam started, and paused to make sure Dean was properly removed from the perimeter of the devil’s trap. “A bunch of demons were waiting for me yesterday. They were looking for a friend of ours… a woman. I want to know why.”

“A woman? Well, who doesn’t want the love of a good woman? Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“No, you talk to me Crowley,” Sam demanded stepping in front of Dean and blocking him from view. “You deal with me.”

“Moose, I have no idea which woman you speak of. I have several in stock that are currently wearing some very nice meat suits, so if you want…”

“Her name is (Y/N), and your demons were very interested in where she was,” Sam could feel himself getting angry as Crowley became more flippant.

“I’m sorry boys, I honestly can’t help you,” Crowley said with an air of satisfaction. “I cannot always control the little buggers. Sometimes they get a mind of their own… where in Hell they had the idea of that…” he shrugged, but narrowed his eyes playfully and wagged a finger at Sam and Dean. “Though, maybe you lot with your Team Free Will drama gave them the impression. Either way, I’ll be sure they leave this girl of yours alone. Yeah?”

“I would enforce that under strict penalties, Crowley,” Dean warned, stepping out from behind Sam.

“I’ll take that under advisement Dean. And what, pray tell, would you suggest those penalties be?”

“Under the penalty of I will hunt their black smoke asses down and torture them until they give up every secret they hold for you and then some,” Dean growled, his green eyes bogged with anger and fixed on the demon before him.

“Alright, Dean-o, put your willy away. I hear you loud and clear. Just so we are on the same page, boys, I have no interest in some little waif one of the two of you are clearly shagging. Now, I do have more pressing manners, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Crowley used his eyes to motion down to the devil’s trap below his feet. Dean was more than happy to let him go and bent down to break the seal. Pausing for a moment he stood back up and looked into Crowley’s dark eyes.

“If you touch one hair on her head…”

“I know… penalties,” Crowley raised an annoyed brow. “Now, on with it or I may not continue to be pleasant.”

“Dean, wait,” Sam spoke up and approached the trap. “I have one more question… what do you know about the prophecy? The one they were talking about.”

“Moose, I told you…”

“No, shut up Crowley. I want the truth. I was there… I know they were after something. Demons don’t just come equipped with an angel blade.”

“An angel blade?” Crowley asked, the surprise in his voice betrayed his cool exterior as his hand absently touched his coat over where the inside pocket would be. “They had an angel blade?”

“They did,” Sam said and looked to Dean who was slowly shaking his head.

Frowning, Crowley shrugged. “Look, boys, if I promise to look into this… will you let me out? I do have an appointment with my tailor soon.”

“Just let him go, Sam. He’s not going to say anything worthwhile,” Dean said. But when Sam didn’t move, he pushed past his brother and broke the seal.

Crowley was gone in a flash. Sam sighed and turned to his brother. “Why did you do that?”

“Because, Sam, he’s not going to say anything. Even if he knew what we were talking about, he’s not going to tell us. It’s Crowley. He only tells us stuff when it serves him.”

“Yeah, but you heard his voice when I brought up the angel blade.”

“And?”

“And… he didn’t know his own demons had one.”

“Ok… AND?”

“Dean…” Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother’s reluctance, “Crowley knows exactly what we were talking about. He was surprised they had the blade. HIS blade. The one he carries with him… you didn’t see him check to see that it was gone?”

“I—” Dean stammered and starred at Sam blankly, realizing that he hadn’t noticed. “No, I guess not.”

“I think it’s time you… we, talk to (Y/N) about it, don’t you think?” Sam suggested and got concerned when he saw Dean’s face go pale. “What?”

“Dammit,” Dean cursed and hung his head. “She’s already left.”

“Left? Where the hell would she go?” Sam asked, his concern starting to rise which did not go unnoticed by Dean.

“Harley’s. She went to Harley’s… Sam…” Dean met his eyes and in them, Sam’s heart immediately broke for his brother.

The pain smeared across Dean’s face and the desperation in his eyes told Sam that they had to act.

“How long ago did she leave? Call her! Tell her to come back…”

Dean shook his head as he yanked his phone from his pocket. Finding her speed dial, he waited while the phone went straight to voicemail. “She’s not answering Sam.”

“Get your stuff,” Sam said and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine. C’mon, she can’t be that far ahead, we’ll catch up to her.”

 

xx

 

The Rolling Stones were blasting through the speakers of your Chevelle as you directed it down the long road towards the cabin. As you approached, you instinctively turned the music down just as Mick was singing about having sympathy for the devil.

The headlights scanned across the dark structure illuminating the lifeless windows. A strong pull at the memory of Harley made it hard to breathe until you saw the broken glass of the front window. Throwing the car in park, but letting the engine run, you got out and slowly approached the porch.

Drawing your gun from the back waistband of your jeans, you cautiously climbed the stairs and tried to peer into the broken window. The interior was dark and motionless. Just as your hand went to reach for the knob, a crack of a twig from behind you caused you to whip around, gun pointed up and ready to fire.

“Whoa! Whoa… it’s just me,” Steven said as he held up his hands.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you lowered your weapon as he lowered his hands. “Sorry man, I didn’t see a car so I thought you left.”

“I did, but was still in the area and thought I’d circle back around,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You go inside yet? It’s a real mess.”

“Not yet, was just about too…” you paused when you noticed the blood coating Steven’s hands. You looked from his hands to his face a bit too quickly, and the thing that lived inside Steven knew he’d been outed.

You raised your gun again, and Steven’s eyes went black. The demon wearing his skin wore a devious grin as he playfully jumped back and forth blocking your exit from the porch. He advanced on you, forcing you to move into the house and that’s when you knew that was where you didn’t want to be.

Using all your strength, you barreled into him, knocking him off his feet and tumbling back down the porch steps. Scrambling to get up and get to your car, you were suddenly grateful that you had left it running with the door open.

A pain ripped through your head as the demon-infested version of Steve threw you back against the closest tree to knock you unconscious. Shaking off the pain the best you could, you slowly got to your knees as he advanced on you again. This time, you used the only other weapon you could think of… your ability to speak quickly.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…”

The demon began to writhe in Steven’s body, his skin steaming from the heat of the exorcism you were placing on him.

“…omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias liberate sevire, te rogamusm audi nos!”

Black smoke poured from Steven’s mouth and disappeared into the ground with the burning remains of leaves the only trace of it. Steven’s body fell limp to the ground, and you could see he was dead.

“Dammit!” you mumbled and made to sure to check for a pulse, but found none. Sitting back on your heels, you knew you had to move and get out of there as the house was likely full of more demons.

Running back to the car, you were in the process of pulling out your phone when you felt a presence suddenly behind you. Turning around you saw a well-dressed man in a black suit and overcoat.

“Hello, darling,” he said, accent thick and rather charming. “We’ve yet to be formally introduced…”

Before you could say a word, you felt your phone slip from your hand as the well-dressed demon touched you, making you both disappear into the wind.

 

xx

 

“Man, it’s still going straight to voicemail,” Dean grunted and punched the steering wheel.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes Dean,” Sam reassured him and double checked the map. “It's’ here, turn here.”

The Impala’s headlights flooded the dark road with light as the brothers maneuvered down the bumpy path.

“Sam, I swear… if she’s not here…” Dean’s throat closed with emotion. He didn’t dare look at Sam as he knew the expression his brother was wearing was one of pity.

“I know man—”

“No, you don’t,” Dean said, slightly shaking his head. “If she’s not here, it’s my fault because I let her go. I let her come here knowing…”

“Dean, stop. It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I love her, Sam. I do. I didn’t want to and I’ll be damned if I didn’t try not to. But I do. It was like the minute I decided I could… that I wanted to… she’s gone.”

“Dean…”

Sam’s words were cut off as the Impala reached the property. Dean felt his heart break in two as he surveyed the scene before him.

The Chevelle was still running, door wide open and music playing. Dean slowly exited his car and approached hers. On the ground, her phone was still illuminated with his name on the screen. From inside the car, the music she had been listening too poured in stabbing waves from the speakers.

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone  
It’s not warm when she’s away  
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone  
And she’s always gone too long  
Anytime she goes away”

“Dean?” Sam asked, approaching cautiously with his weapon drawn.

Dean didn’t answer. He stood staring at the phone in his hands and listening to the voice of Bill Withers on her radio.

“Wonder this time where she’s gone  
Wonder if she’s gone to stay  
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone  
And this house just ain’t no home  
Anytime she goes away”

 

“Dean?” Sam asked again, growing concerned about his brother.

He was about to reach out to get his attention, but (Y/N)’s phone began ringing in his hands. The familiar phone number ‘666’ flashed and he knew where she was immediately.

Showing it to Sam, Dean drew in a deep breath to steady himself. He hovered his thumb over the answer button and finally pressed down on it.

“Hello, Dean…” Crowley said, his voice dripping with triumph. “Miss me?”


	5. I'm Gonna Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean figures out where Crowley’s taken his girl and finds more than he bargains for when he attempts to rescue her.

“Crowley.”

Dean felt his jaw clench and his one hand not holding the phone, tighten into a fist as his eyes closed trying to contain his rage. “Where is she?”

“Dean, relax. I didn’t touch a hair on her head. Cross my heart,” Crowley’s tone was enough for Dean to want to smash the phone to the ground, but he refrained.

“Where is she?” he growled. “You better tell me you son of a bitch or I’ll—”

“Hunt me down and blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I get it. You’ve made your point. Now, if you’ll just shut your yap and listen,” Crowley paused and waited for Dean’s retort when none came, he continued.

“I promised you I’d look into it, and I did. Found the girl about to be a piñata for some of my underlings that went rogue. Got her just in time really.”

Dean swallowed hard and tried to control his breath as he turned to Sam. Seeing a slight bit of relief on his brother’s face, Sam relaxed against the side of the Chevelle and sighed.

“So, she’s alright?” Dean asked and looked up to the star-filled sky in thanks.

“Yeah, fit as a fiddle,” Crowley reassured. “And you can have her back…”

“Right, what’s the catch?”

“Catch? Dean, honestly, I’m disappointed. Does my word mean nothing to you?”

“Less than nothing, Crowley. Put (Y/N) on the phone, now. I want to hear her voice—”

“Sorry can’t. She’s busy. However, check your phone. I’ve sent proof of her alive and happy, there. Oh, and, Squirrel? I’ll return her soon, promise.”

With that, the line went dead, and Dean nearly smashed her phone to the ground.

“What?” Sam asked any relief he felt washed away.

“Crowley has her, said he’ll return her. But that was it,” Dean grunted as he pulled his own phone from his back pocket.

Opening his text messages, one from “666” was unread. As he opened it, her face came into view. Dean’s gut lurched at the sight of her. Standing in a room of what looked to be an abandoned house, She was wearing the same clothes she had on when she left the bunker and appeared to look ok. But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t where he could see her or touch her.

Dean pocketed his phone and lay both of his hands on the roof of her Chevelle. He needed a minute to think, but all he could focus on was the fact that she was with the King of Hell, and that it was his fault.

“I swear to God, Sam… if he hurts her,” Dean growled, feeling the anger rise in his core.

“He won’t,” Sam said, resting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You know what, you’re right. Because we’re gonna Liam Neeson this bitch and get my girl back.”

Sam snorted a laugh and nodded. “We will Dean, we will…”

Pushing off the hood of the Chevelle Dean pulled the phone from his pocket again as he walked back around to the driver’s side of the Impala. Sam climbed into (Y/N)’s car and turned down the music.

“Meet you back home?” Sam called from the driver’s window as Dean stopped in his tracks.

“I know where she,” he said as he turned back to his brother, “Look.”

Dean showed him the picture of (Y/N), but nothing of note stood out to Sam. Shoving the phone further into Sam’s face, he sighed and took it. Using his fingers, he enlarged the picture and scanned the background. It took another minute, but then he saw it.

Visible in the window behind her was a slew of colorful row houses, adorned with wrought iron balconies covered in hanging plants.

“Where else do you know streets and buildings that look like that? Hmm?” Dean asked with a knowing shrug.

“New Orleans… right down there in the French Quarter,” Sam said with a smirk.

“Mhm. He’s got her tucked away in the heart of Mardi Gras. Get your beads ready, Sammy. We’re going to The Big Easy.”

 

image  
Originally posted by frozen-delight

 

Iris sat staring blankly at the wall as she fumbled with the knots that bind her wrists. Breathing deeply, she tried to calm herself, but with each passing second, she could hear the screams from down the hall causing her distress to grow.

Crowley had promised he wouldn’t hurt her. She was important. She was special. She was the Prophet after all, or so he said. The visions she had been having for the last few months had been her first clue. Being a woman of God, she had always prayed for the Father to bestow her with second sight so she could help those in need.

For years her only prayers, outside of those for her beloved family, had ever been for God to bless her with the means necessary to make a difference; to assist the less fortunate, aid the weak and give to the poor.

Her parents had moved from Greece when she was a baby and settled in the Greektown area of Chicago. After opening the café, the Petrakis’ emerged themselves into the local community and found great successes and fortunes that allowed them to do as Iris had wished.

Then, the dreams started. Visions that came all times of the day and night until she was physically compelled to begin writing them down. Images of red eyes plagued her sleep. Working had become tedious as she was constantly hit with flashes of things that made no sense.

Iris would wake from one of the dreams, and start scribbling furiously as the words became burned into her mind. It was Halloween when the one came about the child.

The words became burned into her memory. She didn’t have to write them down, but she did. It was only a fragment at first, but within a few days, the entire sentence had come to her.

A child of emerald eyes created from a lineage older than the time of Christ will be born to a man and woman who carry great strength, bravery and resolve.

The next day, when she went to read them back the uneasiness of what was on the paper was much more than a promise of severe weather or an outbreak of a rare disease as she would normally get. This was something that would affect the entire world.

Two weeks after the first vision, he came. Crowley appeared to her while walking home from the café. His swagger and accent made her smile, but when his eyes flashed red, she knew he was the danger she’d seen in her visions.

Now, she was a room in a run-down house, where people were being tortured down the hall. She could hear the people and music from the street, loud and boisterous. Most cities were noisy, but this was different than she was used too. She didn’t even think to guess she was in New Orleans, enough one night a large group of people pouring out of one of the bars before was shouting about Mardi Gras starting in a day or two.

The door opened with a bang, as two well-dressed demons in suits pushed a woman into the room. She looked scared, but also in control of herself. Even when they shoved her to the floor, she didn’t cry or whimper; instead, she flipped them off and blew the strands of hair from her face.

Crowley strolled into the room, his cell phone in hand and his eyes firmly fixed on whatever it was he was doing.

“Stand up, please dear,” the demon said, as Iris watched in horror at what he was going to do to her.

The woman got to her feet and when she realized that Crowley wanted her picture, she shifted herself in front of the window. Once he got his picture, he smiled politely and left the room. Neither he nor the two demons that followed him out, said a word or even acknowledged Iris’ presence.

“Guess I’m not the hot commodity anymore,” she said, tentatively looking at the woman now pacing the room. “Hey, you know if you wanna loosen these, I wouldn’t hate it.”

The woman stopped walking the room and came behind the chair Iris was tied too. She swiftly worked at the knots and Iris felt her wrists drop, giving her arms the desperate respite they needed.

Sighing with a flood of relief, Iris turned to face the woman who untied her and felt her skin go cold.

“Holy shit… it’s you.”

 

image  
Dean and Sam waited at the corner of Dauphine and Bienville Streets watching from the front seat of the Impala. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d last heard from Crowley and Dean’s patience was starting to wear thin.

“I’m going in with or without him, Sammy,” Dean could feel his hand gripping the top of the steering wheel harder as Sam passed him a frustrated look.

“Dude, I know. But New Orleans is a big city. Cas is doing his best… you know that.”

“Yeah, but, the guy’s an angel, shouldn’t he be able to figure out which building it is, like, instantly? I mean, he’s basically a demon bloodhound, right?”

“Yes, Dean. It’s something like that,” Castiel spoke up from the backseat. “I found the demons. They are a block up on the right. The entire street is warded against angels, but I saw one of them enter into the dark purple building, number six Burgundy Street.”

“Great, let’s go,” Dean said and without waiting for comment, jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk.

Within minutes, they were approaching the row house that met Castiel’s description. With the angel waiting as close by as he could, Dean and Sam tried the door handles. Finding it locked, Dean stood watch as Sam worked his magic with the lockpick.

The streets were full of passersby, all drinking in the atmosphere and the endless amounts of rum available. Dean mused for a moment about taking (Y/N) out on the town like this; being one of those couples that could hang out in a bar, then drunkenly stroll down the street making out as they went. Live music coming from a variety of directions, people laughing and enjoying life… he wanted that, all of that, with her.

A wistful smile melted into his expression as he got slightly lost in the daydream, only coming back around when Sam smacked him in the shoulder.

“Dean! C’mon, it’s open,” Sam said, giving his brother a quizzical look. “You alright?”

“Yeah, fine… let’s go.”

Dean unsheathed the demon blade and took the lead. Sam was close behind him, his own blade out in one hand, a vile of holy water in the other. Just as the door clicked shut, two suited men with black eyes rounded the corner.

No sooner did they snarl a smile, but Dean had swiftly swung his blade taking one out immediately while Sam sidelined the other with the holy water in the eyes until Dean let the demon blade slice through the black-eyed bastard’s heart.

A thud from above, caused Sam and Dean to sprint up the stairs, only to be met by another suited man with a demon inside.

“They’re like roaches,” Dean groaned as he moved to gut the demon gut to the groin.

“Worse,” Sam added as he stepped over the latest body.

Looking down both ends of the hallway, they went to turn right, when another loud thud came from the left side. They crept down the lengthy, narrow passage and came to the last door on the right. Trying the handle, Dean felt it turn easily in his hand and slowly pushed it open.

 

They weren’t exactly quiet or subtle about coming into the house. You could hear Sam and Dean downstairs working their way through the few demons that Crowley left behind as bait. The King of Hell was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

From the moment he had whisked you away from the house of demons waiting for you (unsanctioned by him, so he claims), he said that he only needed to test a theory. Once he got his answer, he had you and Iris tied up, leaving you there with a few expandable guards.

He knew Dean was on his way, and according to the crap he was spewing as he watched you get tied up, Crowley wanted Dean to find you and Iris. To what end, you weren’t completely clear, but you had a feeling Iris knew exactly what was going on.

By her reaction, she clearly had known you, but outside of getting her name, you didn’t get much more information before Crowley had you both bound and gagged and left in the middle of the room.

You’d watched the sun come up and then set again, all the while keeping the faith that Dean would find you. It was getting to move towards midnight by the level of noise out on the streets when you heard the front door open and Dean’s voice carried through the floorboards. Iris must’ve dozed off because you didn’t feel her react to anything.

More commotion in the hallway caused your heart to race and the heavy footsteps approaching the door made your mouth go even dryer in anticipation. When it was Dean’s face that came through, you finally released the breath you’d been holding.

Dean ran to your side, kneeling before you and ripping the gag from your mouth.

“You alright?” he asked, his face frantically searching yours for any signs of injury or discomfort.

“I’m fine, binds are just tight,” you said and winched at how dry your throat had gone, but then smiled at him regardless of the pain. “I knew you’d come.”

“Like I wouldn’t search the ends of the Earth for you,” he said without pausing from his task of freeing you from the chair.

Sam was working on freeing Iris. Her gag was off, but she was too busy staring at Dean to say anything. When he finally released the last rope, you sprung up from the chair and into his arms.

Catching you easily, his embrace around your waist was welcoming in tight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking in a deep scent of you. Pulling back just enough to see your face, he lightly pressed his forehead to yours and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked as he tried to hold back the guilt behind the words. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

“Dean, stop, you didn’t know…”

You hugged him close again and closed your eyes in relief at the feeling of him near again. Just for a moment, you were struck by how much you felt for the eldest Winchester. Not wanting to let go, Dean nearly had to pry you from him, as he held your shoulders with his hands.

“Sweetheart, we need to go before more of Crowley’s minions decide to be stupid.”

You simply nodded and looked over to Iris, who was still staring at Dean. “Iris? Are you ok?”

She shook her head and didn’t flinch when Sam touched her shoulder. “Hey, can you just come with us for now? We’ll get you back home, I promise.”

Again, Iris agreed but her dark eyes didn’t leave Dean’s face, or yours.

Taking your hand, Dean gave it a squeeze and lead you through the dilapidated house and out onto the streets of New Orleans with Sam and Iris close behind. When you stepped into the fresh air, the girl who had been infatuated with both you and Dean, collapsed into Sam as tears spilled from her eyes.

“We gotta get her off the street, Sam,” Dean said, nervously watching as the people walking by were starting to stare.

“I don’t think she’s eaten much. They certainly didn’t feed her while I was there. A drink wouldn’t be terrible, either,” your hand was still clenched into Dean’s, and when he gave you that look of disagreement, you squeezed it harder. “I know… we have to go. I get it. But it’s not like Crowley or his flock are going to attack in the middle of the French Quarter.”

Turning to Iris, you could see that her normally olive complexion had gone pale and that her hands were lightly shaking.

“Let’s get you some food, ok?”

Iris smiled slightly and nodded, still glancing back and forth between you and Dean.

 

image  
The Krazy Korner bar on Bourbon Street had an open both that fit you, Iris and the Winchesters perfectly by tucking you away in the back corner, opposite of the stage. After ordering a couple burgers and salads, you told them your brief encounter with Crowley and all the cryptic things he said.

You tried to ask Iris some questions, but other than learning she was from Chicago, she was still too shaken to offer much up. You could tell that she had something she wanted to say but thought maybe it would be better left for the very long car ride they had to go from New Orleans to Chicago to bring her home.

Dean continued to throw questions at her once the food was delivered. You tried to squeeze his leg under the table, but he was becoming relentless.

“Let the girl eat, would ya?” you turned to him, a rueful look on your face. “Leave the girl be, Dean. She’s tired and hungry and probably a little scared of you.”

Dean’s incredulous expression was the final straw. You wiped your hands and mouth on your napkin before grabbing his hand and dragging him from the booth. The intention was to pull him outside and lay into him to leave Iris be for now, but as you crossed in front of the stage, the band transitioned into an especially bluesy version of “I’m Gonna Crawl” by Led Zeppelin.

Coming to a stop, you raised a brow at Dean, and smiled at him playfully.

“Dance with me, Winchester.”

“Really? Now? I got perfectly good burger waiting, and that girl’s got answers we need.”

“Mhm, maybe… but for now, right now, shut up and come here,” you pulled him into you and even though you knew he was desperate for both the answers and the burger, he didn’t fight you.

Wrapping one arm tightly around your waist, and taking your hand in the other, drawing into his chest, he slowly moved you to the music. Once the rhythmic melody was paired with the words of the song, he stopped looking over at the table and brought his attention to you.

Oh, she’s my baby   
Let me tell you why   
Hey, she drives me crazy   
She’s the apple of my eye   
‘Cause she is my girl 

 

“I hated not knowing where you were,” he said softly, his lips lightly brushing against your temple as he held you close.

You closed your eyes and nuzzled yourself deeper into him, allowing him to rest his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you come with me. I was so determined to do it on my own.”

“I get it,” Dean pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “I do. But you gotta know, I do know you can handle yourself. Me wanting to go with you, was solely because…”

Dean trailed off, his expression soft but still unreadable. You didn’t want to say anything for fear it would stop him from finishing his thought.

Hey, I love that little lady   
I got to be her fool   
Ain’t no other like my baby   
I can break the golden rule 

His silence was maddening because what you could feel radiating from him was more ever thought could be possible.

“Because… maybe somewhere in the last couple of weeks, I sorta fell in love with you.” Dean’s brilliant green eyes held your gaze as you tried to gather the needed breath to speak.

LOVE was nothing something that was supposed to happen. Not with another hunter… not with and especially not with THIS hunter. Nevertheless, you did.

Still not sure what to say, the one thing you were sure of was that not one person you knew was promised tomorrow. Deciding to be as brave as you claimed to be, you swallowed hard and smiled softly, bringing a hand up from his shoulder to brush against his cheek.

“I love you too, Dean,” you replied in almost a whisper. When your eyes met his again and you could see the happiness living there, you know it had been worth the risk to admit your feelings.

Every little bit, every little bit, every little bit of my love, a pretty girl   
Every little bit, every little bit, every little bit, every little bit of my love, oh

A wash of relief coated his expression. Dean bent down to kiss you, his lips a ghost of a touch against yours and sent bolts of electricity throughout our veins. The hand he held against the small of your back, pressed you closer to him as his mouth opened on yours, granting his tongue the invitation to drink you in.

 

I’m gonna crawl, I’m gonna crawl   
Ah, I’m gonna move the car, baby   
Ah, she give me good lovin’, she give me good lovin' 

“I feel like we’re on display,” he said finally pulling back from you, chuckling nervously as he glanced around the room.

“Well, if you promise to leave that poor girl alone, we can go back to the table and finish the food. Then, maybe, get out of here and find a place to get some sleep before hitting the road.”

“Sleep, huh?” Dean teased, running his hand down over the curves of your ass and giving it a little squeeze.

“Yeah… sleep, you pervert,” you frowned, trying your best to act offended. The minute Dean looked at you with that knowing expression, you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip and smile. “Ok, maybe not sleep right away,” you winked and wriggled out from his grip.

Taking his hand and leading him back to the table, you found Sam and Iris deep in conversation. Iris’s color had come back into her cheeks, but Sam’s had done the opposite. Iris was sipping on her Iced Tea as you and Dean slid back into the booth.

“So, what’s going on?” Dean asked as he picked up his burger and took a significant bite.

“You guys aren’t gonna believe this…” Sam started, flicking his gaze between you and his brother. “Iris, here, is a prophet, and apparently she’s got some news for you…”

“Me?” Dean asked, his mouth still full of his deluxe bacon burger with cheese.

Sam nodded and then turned to you. “And you,” he sighed, picking up his beer mug in a mock salute. Congrats, kids, you’re gonna be parents.”


	6. Wonderful Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to learn more information about their new friend, Iris, but his methods cause a bit of a problem with his girl.

“Um, you wanna say that again little brother?” Dean said, slipping into his DeNiro face as he pulled a swig from his bottle and fixed his gaze on Sam. “What’s that now?”

“Well, according to our new friend Iris, you know, the Prophet, she claims that you two will be the parents of a very special child.”

Nearly choking on the food you’d just eaten, you quickly grabbed at your napkin and brought it to your mouth.

“Parents?” you snorted, swallowing the last bite of food. “Me? Him?”

For a moment, you could only look between their three faces in shocked silence as they all stared back at you. When you busted out in laughter, it was their turn to be shocked until you were able to get yourself under control again and wiped the tears that formed at the corners of your eyes from cackling so hard.

“Parents… now that’s friggin’ hilarious!” you tried to catch your breath, but when you noticed Dean still gawking at you, it was a little easier to regain control.

“What? I could be a parent,” he snaked, highly offended by your reaction.

“Oh darlin’, of that I have no doubt… but c’mon be realistic… us? As parents? That’s a bit far-fetched don’t ya think? I can see it now… ‘oh hey, babe, can you grab some diapers on your way back from killing that Werewolf?” you were teasing, but also trying to make a point.

He considered it for a moment, a slight nod of his head to cement his agreement.

“I saw it though,” Iris spoke up timidly, looking between you and Dean. “I did, I saw it. I clearly saw you,” she motioned to you with her chin, “holding a child in your arms. The infant had bright green eyes and looked just like him.” This time, a nod to Dean.

“She claims it was a—”

“Sam, I swear, if you say the word Prophecy, so help me…” Dean warned, and Sam bit his lip to stifle a grin.

“But it was…” Iris said and was a little taken back by the expression Dean passed her.

“Regardless of what it was,” you interjected, giving Dean a silent warning in the process, “she clearly saw, something about us. However, I don’t think this is really the time or place to get into specifics.”

“She’s right,” Sam spoke up and turned to Iris. “But, you remember it all clearly… the words, the visions. Could you write it all down?”

“Of course. Those words, they’re burned into my memory.”

“Great. Would you be willing to help us figure this out before going back to Chicago?”

“Sure, Sam. Anything I can do to help. I owe you one for getting me away from Crowley.”

“Ok, great. Let’s finish this and get the hell out of here then. It’s a long drive home and we have a lot of stuff to try and figure out.”

Leaving the rest of the details for the very long car ride back to the bunker, you all finished your meals and paid the tab.

Walking down the streets of New Orleans, Sam led the way towards the Impala, chatting with Iris while you and Dean hung back a few steps.

“You really sure you’re alright?” he asked.

“Yes, Dean. I promise you, I’m fine. Especially now that I’ve eaten.”

“Good, but I mean what Iris said. About the whole kid thing. I mean, you’re right. It’s ridiculous. No way we could have…” He motioned vaguely at your stomach and you couldn’t help roll your eyes at him.

“Look, no offense, but do you really think I am going to leave protection in the hands of the man? I’m on the pill, Dean. No babies are getting made in this factory unless I specifically put in an order for one, alright?”

Sighing with relief, he nodded and draped his arm around your shoulders. “That’s good to know.”

Turning the corner, Dean’s Impala sat waiting for your return, and you’d never been so happy to see her as you were in that moment, but it made you remember your own special set of wheels.

“Hey, where’s my car?” you asked, suddenly nervous at the thought if it still being at Harley’s old place.

“Don’t worry. She’s safe and sound and back home in the garage. We found it at Harley’s and Sam brought her back.”

“Sam—” you started, but he immediately held up his hands in defense.

“I swear, not a scratch. I didn’t screw with the radio and the tank is topped off,” he said, flashing his patented sweet-Sam grin, and you knew he meant it. “Seriously though, the two of you are like the same person.”

“My woman just has the same respect and appreciation for a fine piece of machinery like I do. Her ride—”

“Her name is Blanche,” you said with a raised brow and serious scowl.

Dean laughed but quickly reigned it in when he saw you were being serious. “You named your car after a Golden Girl?”

“At least it’s a real name. You just objectify this beautiful girl here by calling her Baby. You should be ashamed.”

“Well,” Dean continued ignoring your last comment. “Blanche there is pretty, but not nearly as fine as you Baby,” Dean wistfully looked at the Impala and ran one lone finger along her hood as he went towards the driver’s side.

“Oh, please,” you mumbled, feeling the slightest bit jealous of a car.

“Uh, guys… it’s just a—” Iris started to speak, but quickly stopped when she saw Sam’s look of warning.

“I wouldn’t go there,” he said only loud enough for her to hear. He sighed and looked over at you while opening the rear passenger’s side for Iris, then looked to you. “Shotgun?”

“You’re cute,” you replied with a huff and got in the front passenger seat.

Shaking his head in frustration and mumbling under his breath, Sam went around to the other side and took the seat beside Iris.

Slipping into the front seat next to Dean, he paused before starting the ignition and looked at you.

“Blanche, really?” he asked, his nose wrinkled in confusion. “Really?”

“What? She’s old, sexy as hell and still gets her motor revved hard,” your expression challenged him to disagree. After a moment, he nodded in reluctant agreement before starting the Impala and pointing her in the direction of home.

 

xx

 

Arriving back at the bunker later the following evening, you descended the stairs and realized that Iris was still standing up at the top looking down into the cavernous space.

“Holy cow,” she gasped in amazement. “I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“Cool, right?” you asked as you tossed one of the bags on the table in the War Room. “Why don’t you come on down and I’ll give you the fifty-cent tour and show you where you can stay.”

“She can stay in your old room,” Dean said, coming up from behind you.

“Old room? Am I getting evicted?”

“No, I just figured you could stay with me,” he mumbled quietly, a boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. An expression of his that you found incredibly hard to resist.

You nodded and turned back to Iris. “Come on, I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”

Once she was settled into your room, you moved your essentials into Dean’s room and immediately took a shower. Scrubbing off the last few days of dirt and grime felt euphoric as the hot water cascaded down your back. You thought back to the night at the bar, and Dean telling you that he loved you. Letting that sink in, a myriad of feelings washed over you, including happiness and fear over the new found love you had for Dean, right along with that, was the fear of Iris’ prophetic words. Pushing them aside for now, all you really wanted to concentrate on, was Dean.

Turning off the water and toweling off, you slipped the fresh tank top and boy shorts on and wrapped the plush bathrobe around your shoulders. Once your feet were firmly tucked into your Ninja Turtle slippers, you walked down the hallway back to Dean’s room and found him lying on the bed with music playing quietly; his eyes were closed, and his arms tucked beneath his head. Again, struck by how things had changed since you first met him at that Halloween party months before, you stood there and just watched him for a moment.

Sensing he wasn’t alone, Dean opened his eyes and saw you standing in the doorway. Propping himself up on his elbows, he smiled sweetly; his eyes never leaving you as you closed the door and sat next to him on the bed, the only thought in your mind was wanting to kiss him.

“Something still bothers me about Iris,” he said before you could even attempt to try.

“What’s that?”

“If she’s a prophet, why no Archangel? Where’s her protector, hmm?”

“That’s a really good question,” you replied quietly, shifting on the bed to get closer to him.

“Seriously though, if Crowley could grab her like that without any angel intervention… who’s to say she’s really a prophet, right? I mean, this is Crowley we’re talking about, maybe—”

“Dean!”

He stopped suddenly, giving you a curious look.

“Will you please, please stop talking about Iris and Crowley. I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.”

Your tone had enough mix of sweetness and authority to make him pay attention, his expression giving way to that impish grin you loved so much. Before he could protest, you straddled his lap and pinned him back to the bed.

“Now, Mr. Winchester. Please kiss me and show me that you actually missed me while I was shacked up with the King of Hell,” you wiggled your eyebrows playfully, but his face still turned sour.

“Yeah… no. I can’t, not with that visual,” Dean groaned and sat up on the bed, causing you to sit back on his legs, your face scrunching in disappointment.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I am, actually.”

Dean lightly rubbed his hands on the upper parts of your arms while he tried to find the words he’d been mustering up the courage to say.

“I want you. Trust me,” he exhaled a nervous laugh, allowing his eyes a quick trip up and down your body before returning to meet your gaze. “But, uh, maybe we shouldn’t. You know… with all that Iris said—”

“Dean Winchester, are you fucking kidding me? First of all, we don’t even know if she is a prophet for sure. Secondly, I told you, I protect myself against unwanted body snatchers. No one is growing in this womb without me getting a security deposit. Follow me?”

“You mentioned that.”

“Ok, so what’s the problem?”

A sickening thought lingered, that maybe he had changed his mind… Maybe he had changed his mind somewhere between New Orleans and the bunker. Was it all too much? Living the life of a hunter is hard enough, throw in relationships and the idea of parenthood, and it could be overwhelming.

“The problem is until I know what she is, and that you are not in any danger, I’d honestly rather just be cautious.”

“Dean Winchester wants to be cautious? Well, damn. That tells me that either you really aren’t him or you really are that worried.”

His hand touched your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek lightly, guiding your gaze back to meet his. “I’m that worried.”

“Ok. I get it. This can wait.”

You slid off Dean’s lap, your bottom lip pouted out far enough to be sure he would notice.

“You can be a real brat, you know that?”

“I do. You can’t mind too much. I mean you did say that you lov—”

“Yeah, I remember,” he paused, a twitch of a smile on his lips. “I remember what I said.”

“Did you mean that?” you asked as you laid back on the pillow. It was thick with his scent, which reignited the simmering heat between your thighs.

“I did. I don’t know when it happened exactly, but I realized it when we figured out you were missing. I got this feeling… sort of how my stomach feels after Sam force feeds me vegetables; but worse.”

Shifting on the bed, Dean hovered over you slightly and brushed a hair from your cheek. “We’ve all lost a lot of people. Family, friends… They’re all really hard loses. But to lose you; it might be the thing that does me in.”

Putting your need for him aside, you nodded slightly and watched as his face softened with gratitude.

“You won’t lose me, ok? I’m far too stubborn and good at my job. But, because I love you, we’ll do it your way.”

“I hope so.”

“What? That I am too stubborn or too good at my job?”

“That you love me.”

You sat up on the bed, so you were eye level with Dean. “I do, I love you, Dean. All joking aside, I will go along with however you want to handle this. I trust you with my life.”

 

xx

 

For the next week, you, Dean, Sam and Iris hashed out her origin with her gift, how she ended up with Crowley and everything in between. They salted her, touched her with silver, dowsed her with holy water, and nothing. She never flinched, never reacted to any of the usual tests. Castiel wasn’t answering Dean’s calls. He hadn’t since he disappeared on Dean and Sam in New Orleans.  
You could see Dean’s apprehension growing with each day that passed. Not getting answers was getting frustrating, and with that, he was getting unbearable. He not only outright refused to take on anything else until he got answers, but he also refused to touch you and it was beginning to grow old. You and Sam both saw how on edge he was becoming, constantly pacing, flipping angrily through lore books and calling on Cas aggressively.

Iris was getting exhausted as well. She was missing home, and though she’d reached out to her family, she was beginning to worry they were going to come looking for her if she didn’t go back soon.

On the sixth day of reading lore and supernatural examinations, you were sitting at the table in the library, across from Dean and Sam. A rush of cool air rushed past your face and there was the feeling of a presence over your shoulder.

“Holy crap, Cas!” Dean exclaimed and jumped up from his seat. “Where the Hell have you been?!”

“Hell, actually.”

Cas looked worn as he fell into the chair beside you. “I was looking for this.” From the interior of his coat, he pulled out a fragment of the demon tablet.

“Cas, you freakin’ genius. If she can read this, then she’s a prophet, right?” Dean took the fragment and held it carefully, turning it in his hand as if making sure it was really what Cas said it was.

“Prophet? Well, with Kevin’s replacement now missing, I supposed the next prophet is—”

“Me. I am her,” Iris spoke up from the entryway between the library and hallway. “Crowley told me I am the prophet.”

Castiel turned, and upon seeing Iris slowly rose from his seat and made his way to her.

“You’re Iris?”

“Yes,” she looked past him nervously to you, and you nodded to let her know it was ok.

“He’s on our team, Iris. This is Castiel. He’s an angel.”

Castiel looked at her curiously. The longer he stared, the more she began to fidget.

“Um, guys, he’s starting to creep me out, angel or not,” Iris backed up a few steps until she bumped into the table.

“Iris Petrakis,” Cas said plainly; not a question but a statement.

“Y—yes.”

Castiel turned to Dean and gave him a solemn nod. “She’s a prophet. She’s much further down the list, but she is, indeed, a prophet.”

“Then where was her archangel when Crowley snatched her, hmm? Where was the ominous thunder and blinding light?” Dean asked, his brows raised, arms thrown wide.

“I’m not sure. Heaven isn’t exactly in perfect working order, Dean. I will look into it and try to figure out what happened. I’ll be back as soon as I know something.”

In a flash, Castiel was in the wind again. Iris pulled out a seat and slowly sat down, her eyes unable to move from the place Castiel had taken off from.

“That was an angel? Not at all what I imagined,” she sounded a million miles away, but gradually brought her gaze towards you. “Not anything like I imagined.”

“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it lady,” Dean grumbled before handing the tablet fragment to Sam. “So, what now? We just wait for Cas to maybe bring us back some answers?”

“Dean, I think you just need to relax. I mean, yes, what Iris said, its profound. But without any more information, you’re just going to drive yourself crazy.”

Sam grabbed the fragment off the table and walked around to Iris. Sitting down in front of her, he cautiously handed it out to her and she took it reluctantly.

“Sam, you really think she’s going to get answers from that thing?” Dean asked and looked at you. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Wanna chime in here?”

“Honestly, I got nothing. In fact,” you stood up and pushed the chair back under the table. “I need a break.”

“A break? Seriously? You realize the situation we have here, right? Do you remember what she said?”

“Yes, I do. Of course, I do,” you could feel your frustration with Dean reaching a boiling point, and you didn’t want to fight, but he was overreacting in a way you’d never seen him react. “But, babe, you’ve gone over the edge. They’re just words. You’ve passed up several potential cases to try and stay here to figure this out. Iris wants to go home. I need to get out. Poor Sam probably would like to sleep!”

Dean was taken aback by the growing volume of your voice. “Sweetheart…”

“Don’t sweetheart me, Dean. I said I would do this your way, and I have. But, this is getting absurd. Look at her, she’s beat. Your poor brother has been going nonstop looking through lore and books and notes from other prophets… there’s nothing. Nothing, anywhere, in any book. It’s time to let it go!”

“Y/N—”

“No, I’m done. You wanna stay here and obsessively search for answers before you ever touch me again. Go for it. I’ll be at the bar.”

 

xx

 

The haziness of the bar smacked you in the face as you strolled in. The need for a stiff drink pushed you towards the bar and through the sea of drunk patrons; but not without a few random butt grabs along the way.

If they only knew how much heat I was packing… you thought as the last creep gave you a hard, pinching goose on your ass.

Rolling your eyes and ignoring the advance, you finally made it to the bar and ordered two shots of whiskey and a beer. Eyeing you sharply, the bartender filled the order and you slammed back both whiskeys within seconds of receiving them. Throwing down some cash on the bar, you grabbed your beer and made your way back through the people towards the single open pool table in the back of the room.

Setting your beer down on the small table, you grabbed the rack for the billiard balls and began arranging them properly for a game of 9-Ball. Without looking around you sauntered back towards the end of the table and leaned down to line up the break.

As you bent over the rails, a deep voice spoke up from behind you.

“Need some help with that sugar?”

A tall man with shaggy blonde hair and a goatee stood leering at you while sipping on his beer. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the table and took your shot; the balls bouncing across the velvet greens.

The man oohed as your break shot the 9-ball right into the far corner pocket.

“Nice shot little lady. You got pretty lucky on that one,” he said as he moved closer to your side, both hands leaning on the wood of the table.

Giving him side eye, you sighed and moved to re-rack the balls. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Picking up one of the hookers at the bar, perhaps?”

“Nah, I saw you come in before. Tried to get your attention at the bar but you breezed right past me before I could.”

“Are you the one that grabbed my ass?”

“He did what now?” Dean spoke up from beyond the table. His arms fell to his sides; hands clenching in and out of fists. “What did this guy do to you?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle myself.”

Leaning against the pole, Dean crossed his arms over his chest and gave the guy a warning smile.

Mr. Goatee snorted a laugh and turned to face Dean. Looking down at him, he shook his head as if he was annoyed by a fly. “Look, pal, this really doesn’t concern you—”

In one swift movement that happened in a blur, Dean had the guy face down on the pool table with one arm twisted behind his back. He was pushing his weight into him, causing Mr. Goatee to wince and whine.

“What the hell, man!”

“I want to know what it was you did to my girl here. Because if it was anything other than politely moving out of her way and saying ‘s’cuse me ma’am’ then you and me are gonna have a problem.”

“I—I—”

“Dean!” you shouted, shaking your head and motioning for him to let go.

He relented, and the guy stumbled back from the table, rubbing at his arm. “You’re crazy!”

“You have no idea, my man…”

Shaking his head, and throwing you a cursory glance, the goateed interloper quickly vacated leaving his beer behind. Dean moved it out of the way with a furrowed brow and sat at the little bar table.

“What are you doing here, Dean?”

Bending down you grabbed the rack again and fixed the nine balls into the diamond formation, setting in on felt with care.

“You’re really good at that,” he said, watching you with a dreamy look on his face as if he hadn’t heard your question.

“I know… what are you doing here? Get tired of poking and prodding Iris?”

“I deserve that,” Dean said, dramatically hanging his head and holding his hands up in front of him.

“So, answer.”

“I’m here because you are right. You were one hundred percent right… everything you said back at the bunker.”

Slowing walking around the table, over-pronouncing the swing in your hips, while chalking your cue, you watched him thoughtfully; trying to search for sarcasm hidden behind his words.

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do. After you left, Sam set me straight. Iris too. Prophet or not, she’s a smart kid.”

One of the waitresses came sauntering through, giving Dean and a sly smile and a once over before stopping to ask for his drink order.

“A few shots of whiskey and throw a couple bottles of beer on there too. Thanks, sweetheart.”

When he didn’t give her any more than a cursory glance with the order, she turned to leave with a roll of her eyes. As she walked away, the current song on the jukebox faded out, and the familiar beginning to “Wonderful Tonight” began to play.

Dean got up from the table and sifted through the available cues in the holder. Humming along with the music, he went about choosing one, then stood at the top of the table and positioned himself to break.

 

“It’s late in the evening; she’s wondering what clothes to wear  
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair  
And then she asks me, Do I look all right?  
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight”

 

“Hey now, Winchester. This is my table. You wanna play here, you’re gonna follow my rules.”

Amused, he stood up straight and leaned on the cue. “What kind of rules we talkin’?”

Laying the rack under the table, you turned towards him and waited until you were close enough that he could hear you over the jukebox playing in the corner.

“First rule, I break; always. The second rule, if I can get the nine in within the first three shots, you owe me a back rub and breakfast in bed.”

Dean snickered and stifled it when he saw your expression. “Fair enough. What else?”

“That’s it. Now move aside please so I can get this done.”

Sweeping his arm across the front of the table, he stepped back for you. Bending over, you made sure to push your ass further up into the air than necessary. You knew he’d be watching and you wanted him to remember what he was missing.

A swift shove of your stick shot the white cue ball at the nine solid balls at the other end of the table. The eight, five and one instantly sunk into various pockets, and you were left with a fairly easy shot on the nine but tried to deduce how to do it involving the two ball.

Finally finding your angle, you walked passed Dean and bent over the side. Purposely exaggerating your hips again for his benefit. Bending down over the table again, this time he was in the perfect line of sight to see the swell of your breasts wanting to spill from beneath your shirt. You may or may not have purposely left a few extra buttons unbuttoned.

“Nine in the corner pocket,” you called and took your shot. The two ball barreled down the line of the bumper and knocked the nine, dumping it into the pocket without hesitation.

“I like my eggs scrambled, please. Also, I plan on sleeping in tomorrow, so you don’t have to have it ready till at least eleven.”

“Fair enough, but I want a rematch,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I feel hustled.”

“Alright, two out of three then, yeah?”

Dean nodded and just as he was about to rerack the set, the waitress came back with the drinks.

You both picked up one of the shots and lightly touched the rims before tossing them back.

 

“I feel wonderful because I see  
The love light in your eyes  
And the wonder of it all  
Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you”

 

Dean’s face reacted to the initial burn of the whiskey, and you couldn’t help but smile as he shook it off. “I got a new rule though. If I win… you have to forgive me for being an ass.”

“I forgive you for that every day, Dean.”

His knowing expression made you laugh, and you instantly softened towards him.

“Maybe… but this time you are a hundred percent right. I went a little crazy.”

“A little?”

“More than a little,” he relented and picked his cue back up. “But… if I win this, you have to let me make it up to you.”

“Deal.”

“Go ahead, break,” he leaned back against the table, pool cue in one hand, beer now in the other.

You could feel his eyes burning a hole through your back and slide down to your ass. His presence was suddenly overwhelming, and this time when you pulled back to hit the cue, you missed and scratched on it.

Dean’s laugh was both intoxicating and irritating at the same time. Biting your lip, you turned to him and shook your head in disgust.

“That’s not fair… you can’t count that,” you said and took a step back towards the table as he approached you.

“I do, actually. It was a scratch, so I win.”

Leaning the cue against the rails, he pushed you back against the billiard table and placed a hand on either side.

 

“It’s time to go home now and I’ve got an aching head  
So I give her the car keys and she helps me to bed  
And then I tell her, as I turn out the light  
I say, "My darling, you were wonderful tonight  
Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight”

 

“Let’s get out of here, hm? I can think of a few better ways to prove to you how sorry I am.”

His eyes threw off the devilish sparks that drove you crazy, and you knew that you couldn’t say no; even if you felt you should. He’d been so cold and distant for the last week, and it was all because of a bunch of words from a stranger. His fear of … whatever was enough for him to not kiss you, or touch you for days. You wanted to be angry but knowing Dean and his reasons for acting that way, you crumbled easily.

“Let’s go.”

 

xx

 

Within in minutes you were in the parking lot. His fingers rested on the small of your back and guiding you towards the Impala. You stopped, grabbed his hand and instead pulled him towards Blanche who was discreetly parked in the back corner of the lot.

The moment you were within arms reach of the car, Dean grabbed you by your ass and lifted you up against her. His mouth found yours; hungrily clamping down on your lips and separating them with his tongue.

Grabbing the back of his head, you pushed him harder against you; desperate to feel his skin on yours. He slid you over enough to get the rear passenger door open and then pushed you down onto the bench seat.

Slamming the door behind him, he hovered over you as you tore the blue Henley over his head and into the front seat. Burying your head into his chest, you nipped kisses on his flesh, relishing in the euphoric warmth of him.

“Y/N,” he sighed, his eyes hovering closed at your touch. When he opened them, they were no longer the impish green you were used too, but nearly black and blown back with lust. “I want you, now.”

He didn’t speak again. Dean pawed at the clasp of your jeans, taking your boots off with them and tossing them aside. You worked on unbuttoning your shirt, allowing your breasts to spill out of the bra that could barely contain them at this angle.

Dean buried his face between your tits, licking and sucking at them as his erection swelled hard in his jeans against your thigh. You were desperate to feel him. You did your best to unbutton his jeans, finally getting the zipper and pulling them down enough to release his throbbing dick, already slick with precum against your own flesh.

His mouth moved up to your neck, as his hand moved down between your legs. Dean moaned into your mouth as his hand found how ready for him you already were. His teeth bared down on your neck, as his fingers teased your clit.

“Wait,” he growled and sat up, making you whine in disappointment. “I got some apologizing to do.”

Dean slid you up, so your back was leaning against the door. He freed himself completely from his jeans and took a moment to take you in.

“God damn, I really was an idiot,” he whispered as he bit his bottom lip. “A real, first-grade idiot.”

“So, say you’re sorry Winchester…” you purred, reaching out and running a hand through his hair. “Prove how sorry you are.”

Dean bent down and kissed your stomach below your navel and didn’t stop until he reached the swell of your sex. A grappling moan escaped your lips as his tongue plunged deeply into your folds; no teasing, no hesitation.

Gripping his hair tightly in your hand, your hips bucked instantly as he wrapped his arms around you to try and hold you still. Dean swirled his tongue around inside you, not leaving one inch untouched. His teeth grazed against your clit one too many times, triggering your walls to flutter quickly and your climax to spill your thighs.

“Fuck!!” you screamed and pushed his face deeper into your folds, something he accepted happily.

Once he had finished taking in as much of you as he could, he sat up, grinning like a fool. “Forgive me?”

“Not quite yet,” you sat up, pushing him off you and making him sit on the bench.

Dean pulled you down on his lap, his erection perfectly aligned and ready to take you on. You leaned your forehead against his and hovered over him, teasing the tip of his dick with the warmth of your pussy; a guttural noise rose from his chest with each slight movement you made against him.

“Say you’re sorry and that you won’t go for days without touching me again…”

“Baby, I am so sorry… trust me. A day won’t go by from now on where I don’t.”

You slowly lowered yourself on top of him. Dean’s eyes rolled back with his head as he filled you completely. Another low growl barreled from his mouth, as his hands gripped your hips tightly; so tight you knew there would be marks tomorrow.

He rocked you gently at first, relishing in how he felt while inside you. Dean lowered his head and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sending an electric shock racing down your spine and causing you to move faster against him.

Whether it was the days with no physical contact or the few shots of whiskey, neither you or Dean was going to last long in this state.

“Unf… fuck… Y/N…” Dean moaned, his hands nearly painful on your sides.

You placed your lips beside his ear, allowing the tip of your tongue to tease his lobe, as you spoke to him in a low, breathy whisper. “Cum for me baby… show me how much you missed me.”

It was enough to break him. Dean slammed you down on his lap one last time as his release coated you, inside and out; his mouth and teeth assaulting your breasts as he did. Rocking more slowly, you continued moving your hips on him, until you felt his entire body shudder, then go limp.

Dean lifted his head to you, the same goofy smile on his lips like before. You left a soft kiss on his cheek before climbing off of him and reaching into the front seat for your shirt.

“Whoa, whoa… who said it was time to get dressed. I think I have more apologies to make,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back into him.

“And, you can, back home. Back seat sex is fantastic, but there is a shower at the bunker big enough for two, plus a nice warm bed that we can get reacquainted with. Let’s take this apology tour back there, shall we?”

“Good God, yes,” Dean said and scrambled for his clothes.

Within minutes you were both dressed again and exiting the rear of the Chevelle.

“Meet you back home?” he asked, his expression soft and dreamy as he looked at you.

“Race you there,” you teased and went to hop into the car. Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you into him before you could.

“Y/N… I know I’m not easy to be with sometimes. I tend to get wrapped up in cases, and… whatever. I snore, I drink too much, I drive too fast… But I want you to know, besides my brother, you are the most important person in my life, and I love you.”

His voice broke a little, and you knew how deeply he meant it. 

“I love you too, Dean. And, yes, you may do all those things, but they are only a few of the things that I also love about you. I don’t care that you drink or drive fast. Or that you let a case monopolize your attention. I don’t even have to be your top priority. I just ask that you trust me, and don’t shut me out.”

“Never again.”

“Good, now, let’s get home. I’m dying for a shower and a snack. Then maybe some dinner.

“A snack and dinner?” he asked, his look of confusion was both endearing and sexy.

“You’re the snack Dean, geez.”

“Ohhh,” he realized, and flashed an embarrassed smile. With a big grin on his face, he turned towards the Impala. “First one home gets the unlumpy side of the bed!”

Shaking your head as he ran off, you jumped into the driver’s side and revved Blanche’s engine. Hearing her purr, and still reveling in the afterglow of being with Dean, you didn’t even care that he would beat you home or that you’d have the lumpy side of the mattress. Because you knew that once you were both there, there would be no sleeping that night.

xx

It was half-past eleven when you finally rolled out of bed the next day. Going down the hallway to the bathroom, you were still half asleep when you caught your reflection staring back at you from the mirror. Hungover from the whiskey and the sexual revolution you had started with Dean, you continued to stare at yourself as a nagging feeling was itching at the back of your brain.

There was something you had to do; maybe something you had forgotten… no matter how much you searched your brain, you couldn’t remember what it was. A soft knock at the door brought your attention back and without thinking, you answered it.

“Come in, I’m decent.”

Iris slowly pushed the door open and recoiled slightly when she saw you. “You alright?”

“Long night,” you answered simply. “What’s up?”

“Oh!” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, circular case with a green cover. “I found these last night, you must have left these in the bedroom. I thought you might need them.”

A piercing bolt of panic ran down your spine and you suddenly realized what you had forgotten. Swallowing hard, you reached one shaky hand out to take the container and snapped it open. There were more than several days’ worth of birth control pills you’d forgotten to take since getting back from New Orleans. A montage of flashbacks to the night before and the number of times you and Dean had sex, unprotected, caused an instant bout of nausea to rise in your gut.

You looked up at Iris, your eyes wide and full of fear.

“Um, Iris… can you run through that prophecy one more time?”

She looked at you curiously, then to the container in your hand. The realization dawned on her and her whole body audibly sighed.

“Oh shit,” she said and shrugged. “I guess where fate has a will, she’ll find a way.”


	7. Pride and Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wait is on to see if her forgetful nature will prove Iris’ Prophecy to come true. In the meantime, Dean and Sam get a call for help from Charlie on a case that leaves her stumped. Deciding to take Iris on her first hunt, the whole lot heads out for what was supposed to be a routine job, but ultimately has serious consequences. Could an old friend be behind some of the goings on?

“It’s been three weeks,” Iris paused, looked around to be sure no one was eavesdropping, “are you ever going to find out?”

You looked up from the book in front of you and gave her an exasperated look. “Iris, three weeks isn’t nearly enough time. It’s usually a good month before you can take a test and get an accurate response.”

Iris sat back in a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is torture, you know?”

“Then don’t think about it,” you said, not taking your eyes off the book. “I’m not.”

“Then you’re insane. Because it’s all I can think about and it’s not even my baby.”

“Will you please keep your voice down!?” you reprimanded. Now it was your turn to scan the bunker for any curious ears. Luckily the boys were off doing their own thing while you and Iris were taking on the task of research.

“Maybe I should just go home, I only seem to be irritating you lately.”

You closed the book and leaned on it, giving her an apologetic half smile.

“Iris, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been snippy lately. I am nervous, ok? I am petrified of being pregnant. Not only because of what you saw but the whole idea of pregnancy and a family was never really on my to-do list. Please, stay. We still have a lot to figure out and I really do need your help.”

“But you love him, don’t you?” she continued, ignoring the last part of what you said. “Why wouldn’t you want to start a family?”

“Yes,” you smiled wistfully, “I love Dean, very much. But our lives are not fit to raise children. No hunters I know, who have kids, wind up with their happy ending.”

“You could stop hunting,” Iris shrugged. “I mean, it’s not the world will stop rotating if you stop hunting.”

“It’s not that simple. Hunting isn’t just something you do. It’s who you are. Being a hunter is a calling… a way of life. It’s accepting that your life comes second to others most of the time. That your path is to monitor the things that go bump in the night. Parents who are also hunters will leave their kids behind well before they should. It’s happened to all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, though her tone was less than sympathetic. “I guess I just don’t understand. I mean, you were raised in the life, I assume… why follow in their footsteps. Why not go to school, get a degree? Make a new path?”

“Because you will always end up getting sucked back in,” Sam said from behind you as he entered the room. “Trust me. I speak from experience.”

Iris’ looked concerned but didn’t continue to press the issue. She quietly got up and walked slowly from the room lost somewhere deep in thought. Sam watched her go and turned to you before heading to the archives.

“What’s up with her?” he asked, “She trying to convince you to quit hunting?”

“No, just curious as to why we do it and don’t stop. You know, considering the price of it all.”

It was Sam’s turn to be quiet now. He rifled through a few of the drawers, found what he was looking for, but didn’t close it right away. Instead, he leaned against the cabinet and asked, “Why do you keep doing it?”

“Same reason you do, Sam. Because we aren’t fit to do anything else.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he considered your answer. Closing the drawer, he continued down into the library to retrieve the books he needed. You assumed the conversation was over and went back to the book that sat before you. But your mind couldn’t concentrate on research. You felt the need to be proactive; to go and hunt… something.

“Hey, Sam, any idea where that big brother of yours got off to?” you asked, sliding the large text away from you.

“Garage I think. Probably doing something to the car.”

“As long as it’s his car and not mine… Blanche is a very finicky girl. Doesn’t like just anyone touching her.”

Sam just shook his head. His attention was diverted by his cell phone buzzing in his pocket, and you noticed his eyes light up when he saw the caller.

“Charlie! Yeah, good. How’s it going?”

You took this chance to leave quietly and go find Dean.

 

xx

 

You found him in the garage, his legs sticking out from beneath the Impala. The music was playing loud, and even obscured by the car, you could hear him singing along. Leaning against the door, you just watched him for a minute or two. Your hand absently floated down to your abdomen and wondered, if your body really was growing a body snatcher. You tried to imagine you and Dean being parents, and you kept coming back to the same conclusion, there’s just no way it could work…

Your train of thought was interrupted by Dean sliding out from beneath the car. He didn’t see you right away; nor did he stop singing. His voice mixed with that of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s made you smile. Bopping his head along and sliding across the garage floor to where his tools were, Dean kept on grooving, completely unaware of your presence.

“Yeah I love my baby, heart and soul  
Love like ours won’t never grow old…

She’s my sweet little thang, she’s my pride and joy  
She’s my sweet little baby, I’m her little lover boy”

“Are you singing about me or are you singing about your car?” you asked, unable to help yourself.

Dean whirled around on one boot heel, smiling, but completely embarrassed that he was caught mid-concert.

“Heyyyy… babe. What, uh, whatcha doing in here? Thought you and Iris were hitting the books.” He walked over and kissed you sweetly, most likely hoping you would forget what you saw when you had come in.

“We were. She needed a break, and I needed… something else.”

Dean raised his brows suggestively and gave you a knowing wink. “Gimme five minutes to get cleaned up and—”

“Ugh, no, perv. Well, at least night right now,” you laughed and playfully hit his chest. “But hold that thought for later.”

Frustrated, Dean sighed. You, trying not to bust out laughing at the pout now apparent on his face, tried to ignore it. “Actually, I need to kill something. Let’s find a hunt, or, I don’t know—there’s gotta be something that needs killing, right?”

“I got nothing right now. Sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on? Why the need to kill something?”

“Because we’ve been sitting around this place for a couple weeks. We promised Iris a hunt before she headed home, and I think she’s ready to go. Besides, I miss being on the road. I love it here, you know that, but sometimes—”

“Its fine, I get it. I’ve been there, trust me. But do you think she’s really ready? It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Were you ready for your first hunt?” you asked, as Dean leaned against the other side of the door frame facing you.

“I guess not. Not really. But I certainly had more than three weeks experience and plenty of knowledge drilled into my head by the old man before I picked up a machete and went after something.”

“Well, Winchester, I say she’s ready. I’ll take responsibility for her. I think it’s time we give that girl a machete and point her in the right direction. It’s why she stayed, after all. She wanted to be prepared if something should come after her again.”

Dean scowled and pushed off the frame. Wiping the grease from his hands, he slowly made his way back to the Impala. Sliding the dolly out of the way, he closed up the toolbox and went about cleaning up the space. You knew he was mulling it over and gave him the time to consider what you said. Not to mention that simply watching Dean walk around a room was a sight you could never tire of.

“I mean, I guess—”

“Hey,” Sam called out from just outside the entrance. “Charlie called. She’s got a case for us.”

You looked over at Dean and shrugged. “Guess that solves it, huh?”

 

xx

 

You and Iris rode in Blanche, while Sam and Dean led the way in the Impala. On the four-hour drive to meet Charlie, you broke down the case and tried to give her as many tips, and valuable information as you could.

“Iron is your friend here. Salt, too. Ghosts aren’t exactly hard to dispel,” you said, “but they can be a real pain in the ass if you can’t find their bones or the objects they’re attached too.”

“To burn? Right?”

“Yup, to burn.”

Iris nodded and took out the small notebook she’d been carrying around. You glanced over at her, scribbling away in the dimly lit interior; a hint of a smile touching your lips.

“You know, Sam and Dean’s dad kept a journal. Dean told me about it a while back. They grew up in the life, but their dad didn’t. Even though he was a Men of Letters Legacy, he didn’t know anything about this world ‘til after their mom died. Then he started the journal to track everything he learned.”

“And she was a hunter…” Iris mumbled more than asked.

“She was, yeah.”

“And how did she die, again?”

“Painfully,” you said and turned the wheel to follow the Impala into the parking lot of a small diner. “A demon, Azazel, he killed her. John made it his mission to kill Azazel.”

“Did he?”

You tilted your head and gave her a knowing look. “What do you think?”

“I think their dad is dead.”

“Right. He died, saving Dean. Dean was the one who killed the demon in the end.”

You turned off the engine and turned to face Iris who was again scribbling in her notebook. “Iris, I need to be sure this is what you want. This life is no joke, and while I doubt you’ll be digging for cases, I want to be sure that you want to do this before we involve you any further.”

“Y/N, I appreciate that, but I am ready. I need to do this before I try and go back home. I want to know how to protect myself and my family.”

You touched her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Alright then, here we go.”

 

xx

 

No one else picked up on it, but you saw Iris’ face light up when she saw Charlie. You had only met Charlie twice before this, and both times were brief, but you liked her a lot; could easily see why the boys loved when she came around.

Iris looked as if she’d seen an angel; a good one, not the dicks you were used to dealing with. Her dark eyes sparkled like you hadn’t seen before and it finally made sense as to why Iris never mentioned a boyfriend or showed any interest in Sam (even though you may have suggested it a few times).

Dean made the formal introductions, Iris simply nodding in the redhead’s direction with a goofy smile and she shook her hand. Sam watched it unfold too and you could tell he was just as amused at Iris’ instant crush.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving,” Charlie said after hugging you hello. “I got the corner booth, so we could talk. Oh, Dean, the pie here… you have to—”

“Already on it,” he said starring dreamily into the dessert case, lightly biting his bottom lip. “I see a slice of blueberry with my name all over it.”

Once you were sat in the booth, food and coffee ordered, Charlie broke down the specifics of the case. A newly renovated house in town had gone through five buyers in the span of two years. At least one family member from each group that had bought it died on the premises. The local paper did a small blurb on the 100-year-old restored estate and that’s where Charlie caught the case.

“Honestly, I can’t find any reason for the haunting. If, that’s what it is,” Charlie explained and passed Sam the newspaper clipping.

“If?” Dean asked before shoveling a piece of pie in his mouth.

“I’m open to possibilities Dean. I have no solid proof it’s a haunting. But I don’t know what else it could be. Either way, there is something that keeps killing the people that move into that house. That’s why I called Sam. Thought you guys might have a different take on it.”

“Well, first things first. Let’s finish our pie, then head on over. Place empty?”

Charlie nodded.

“Alright then, we start at the empty house.”

 

xx

 

You and Iris were once again following the Impala. From the corner of your eye you could see her stealing glances at you, wanting to say something but kept stopping herself. Even though you had a feeling what it was, you let her debate on it a bit longer before finally just saying it for her.

“You like Charlie, huh?”

“How did—I mean. Damn. That obvious?”

“A little. At least to me.”

“She’s so pretty. Honestly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Iris mused wistfully as she watched the darkened streets and scenery go by. “I’ve never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. My parents wouldn’t let me date. Especially not a girl.”

“Why?”

“They’re from the old country. Dating didn’t happen until it was a marriage arrangement, and they are tolerable, but wouldn’t stand for their daughter to date or marry a woman.”

You wanted to say something, offer her a bit of comfort, but you saw Dean pulling off on the side of the road and followed.

“I’m sorry, Iris. I can’t imagine having to contend with that. But just know this… you are safe with us, there’s zero judgment here. Plus, Charlie likes girls better too. You absolutely have a chance. But, more on that later.”

You winked at her and a giant grin spread across her face. “Now, it’s time to go to work.”

With your entire entourage out of the cars, you grabbed the necessary equipment from the trunks and made your way to the back of the house. Sam picked the backdoor lock, while Dean stood watch. Not that there was any harm of being spotted, the closest neighbor was more than a mile away. The slightest wave of dizziness hit you, making you lean on Iris for support.

She looked at you curiously, “You alright?” she whispered.

You nodded and steadied yourself. Just as you did, Sam got the door open and you all went inside. Dean paused as he entered the house and lightly grabbed your shoulder.

“You look green. You ok?”

“Yeah. Maybe bad chow at the diner. I’m fine.”

He cradled the back of your hair and left a kiss on the top of your head. “Just be careful.”

You nodded and gave him a wan smile before continuing to investigate.

The main foyer was grandiose in size and décor. Even for it being remodeled recently, there were ornate gold fixtures that were more akin to something from the Victorian era, than modern day. A mix of pinks and soft greens were splashed through the paintings and curtains giving the room a pastel effect that seemed out of place.

A large, sweeping staircase led to at least two more levels that you could see, with a two-tier balcony overlooking the foyer. The air was heavy and ominous, and you were clearly not the only one to feel it. Iris stood close to you, shaking, but not shying away from whatever lay ahead. In the side of the staircase was a small door; the kind that would open to a closet or storage area.

Sam opened it cautiously and saw that it led to another set of stairs that descended to the basement.

Dean and Sam shared a silent exchange. They did a quick round of rock, paper, scissors; Dean lost, then hung his head in defeat. 

“Alright. Sam, you and Charlie head up to the second floor. Y/N, why don’t you take Iris to the third floor and start there. I’ll take the demonic door to Narnia there. Let’s see what we can find and then report back.”

Everyone split off to their assigned locations and started looking around for what could be causing the trouble. An hour passed, because of the house’s size, you and Iris had only made it through half of the third story rooms. In the middle of the hallway, there was an another smaller, oddly shaped door.

Giving it a tug, you realized it was locked. “A locked room always has something to tell you,” you said to Iris before taking a step back. Raising your foot, you gave it a good kick, but it didn’t budge.

“Let me try,” Iris said and approached the door. From her back pocket, she pulled out a lockpick set. Despite her shaky hands, she managed to get it open within several minutes time, leaving you more than a little impressed.

“Damn, Iris. You do learn fast,” you chuckled; a feeling of pride washing over you.

You drew your gun from your rear pocket and held it, along with your flashlight up to both see and prepare to defend yourself.

“Please tell me that gun is loaded with something other than bullets. You can’t really kill what is already dead.”

You stopped, turned to look at her and rolled your eyes. “Seriously? Give me a little credit. Bullets made with rock salt. It won’t get rid of a ghost, but it will get them off your ass for a bit.”

Carefully climbing the stairs, you could feel the temperature drop considerably. Enough that both you and Iris could see the breath expelling from your mouths.

“Stay close,” you whispered as you reached the landing and surveyed the attic.

The room was large, but sparse in what contained. A few pieces of furniture covered with dusty linens, an assortment of boxes in one corner and the broken remnants of a carousel horse.

Movement from the shadows behind the horse caught your eye and you motioned for Iris to stop. There was no noise, and it felt like no air in the room. Though you could still feel the chill, it was hard to breathe, like something was sucking the air from the atmosphere. All the hair on your arms and neck began to stand at attention, and a light buzzing began in your ears.

“Iris,” you said as calmly as possible, though it was a struggle, “go… go get the others, now.”

 

xx

 

Dean was emerging from the basement when he first heard Iris’ frantic call. He rushed into the foyer as she was bounding down the steps two-by-two and falling into him.

“What? What is it?!” he asked, holding her up by both shoulders. “Where’s YN?!”

Iris was breathless, trying to explain through gasps of much-needed air. “She’s… up… stairs… attic… door…”

“Dammit,” Dean cursed under his breath. “Here, sit. I gotta go up –”

“What happened?” Sam called down from the second-floor balcony. “She alright?”

“Sam, Y/N is in the attic, go see—”

A sound of wood breaking caused all the conversation to stop. Everyone looked up at the same time to see your body falling from the third-floor landing. Splintered pieces of wood from the railing reigned down beside you. Your back was racing towards the floor, but for Dean, everything moved in slow motion.

His body was paralyzed as he saw your arms flailing, feet scrambling to try and turn, to land face down so maybe you could brace yourself. But you couldn’t. Your body hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Dean was at your side within a second, checking for any signs of life he could find. Anything that would tell him you were alright.

“No… no, no, baby, come on…” he pleaded, tears filling his eyes while he lifted your head to try and stop the blood that was now all over his hands.

He felt for a pulse. It was there, weak, but there. Sam and Charlie were standing over you, Iris crouched on the ground, praying for a miracle. Time was of the essence, but still, everything was moving in a slowed down state.

“We need to get her to a hospital. NOW!” he barked, which seemed to kick everything back into motion.

Charlie hurriedly took off the button-down flannel she wore over her GamerGirl t-shirt and thrust it at Dean to use for pressure against the back of your head. He scooped you up as Sam rushed to get the front door open. Once back at the cars, Dean carefully laid you in the back seat of the Impala and motioned for Sam to drive. Iris and Charlie hopped in your car and followed close behind as Sam rushed you to the nearest hospital.

 

xx

 

There was a severe ache in your lower back. Anytime you tried to move, a ripple of searing pain tore through your head and down your neck. You were trying to wake up; you could feel your eyelids fluttering, doing their best to open.

Voices were muffled as if there were a thick layer of plastic or foam between you and the source. No idea how long you’d been struggling to wake up, you were tired but more than determined to open your eyes. You needed to see Dean, to be sure he was alright; you needed to tell him that you were alright.

The next time you tried to open them, they relented. You were drowsy, but you could see your surroundings after a minute or two adjusting to the room’s illumination. It wasn’t bright, just enough for you to make out the figure near your bed to be Dean.

The hospital room, and you knew it was that from the various beeping machines and horrible colored walls, was otherwise empty. Dean was asleep, head fell to one side, hands clasped on his chest and lightly snoring.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt like you’d swallowed a bucket of sand. You moaned slightly as you tried to move, but it was enough to wake Dean from his nap.

The sight of you awake both elated and terrified him. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and leaned his elbows on your bed. Taking your hand that wasn’t stuck with an IV or attached to a wire, he raised it to his lips and kissed it before pressing it to his check.

“Welcome back,” he said roughly, his own voice still thick and full of exhaustion. “You gave me a hell of a scare, woman.”

You furrowed your brow and remembered how scratchy your throat felt. Looking at the pitcher of water, Dean took your cue and pour some into a cup, stuck in a straw and helped you take a sip. The water was blissfully cool on your tongue and helped clear up the dense taste of cotton laden throughout your mouth.

“Dean,” managed to rasp from your lips, but he just shushed you.

“Don’t try to talk, sweetheart. Just relax. I’m gonna get the doc, ok? She’s gonna want to know you’re awake.”

No, you wanted to scream, don’t go! But nothing came out. Instead, you shook your head slightly, despite the pain that it caused.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” he kissed your hand again and stepped out of the room.

Barely two minutes, later he was back with your doctor, who was a very tall, leggy blonde and not at all what you expected. She introduced herself as Dr. Shari and curtly asked Dean to leave the room so she could give you an exam. He reluctantly complied but didn’t miss the opportunity to give her a dirty look as he left.

Once she performed her initial exam, which consisted of turning you on your side and hovering her hands over your back, she helped you get comfortable again and started asking questions.

“You took quite a fall,” she said, pulling up the chair beside your bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you managed through the grit still lodged in your throat. “Tired.”

She leaned in closer to you, her amber eyes sparkling with mischief and an odd familiarity that you couldn’t quite place. “Makes sense. Do you remember anything about that day?”

You shook your head no.

“Do you know what today is?” she asked, making a little checkmark in her notes.

Again, you shook your head.

“To be expected. You banged your head severely when you landed, I assumed there would be some memory loss. You’ve been here for six days, Y/N. We were beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake up at all.”

“Six days?”

“Mhm. You also fracture some of your ribs, broke an ankle and had bleeding on the brain. Thankfully they were able to stop it and there was no permanent damage. Of course, we’ll have to do some assessments, but right now, you and your baby’s prognosis—”

You felt your heart pounding and a lump form in your throat. Did she just say, “Baby?”

“You didn’t know? Best I could tell you’re about six weeks along. Honestly, I’m surprised it survived the fall. That must be a pretty strong little peanut M&M you got growing in there.”

There was something odd about her and her bedside manner, but the revelation of the pregnancy far outweighed the feeling gnawing at your gut.

“I’m six weeks pregnant?” you whispered more to yourself than to her. But how was that possible? That meant you were pregnant before Crowley took you before Iris was even in your lives. The more you tried to wrap your mind around it, the more the pain radiated through your body.

“Would you like me to run the test again?” she asked with an air of indignance. “I will, but I assure you, you are pregnant.”

You shook your head in sheer disbelief and sighed shakily. The door to your room opened and Dean came back in loaded with an armful of snacks and drinks from the vending machine.

“Sorry to interrupt, thought you’d be done by now,” he said, grinning from ear to ear staring at you. “But, since you’re here, can she have this stuff? I mean, it can’t be any worse then what I saw wheeled by before.”

“We’re done. She’s going to be fine. Just needs to take it easy, heal those broken bones and take care of every…thing.”

Dean furrowed his brow and looked confusedly between you and Dr. Shari. “Uh, what does that mean?”

“I’ll explain later,” you said, now eyeing the bottles of juice he’d brought you.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two to it. And, easy on the sweets. I’ll have them update your chart as far as your meals go and get you up and moving around in no time. We’ll try and get you out of here in the next day or so.”

When she was gone, Dean dumped all the snacks into his chair, leaving the cans of soda and juice on the nightstand. He sat beside you on the bed and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

Dean chuckled darkly; his face turned serious and pensive. “I really thought I lost you there for a minute. You can’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry, I wish I could tell you what happened… we were on a case, right?”

“Yeah. Turned out to be a poltergeist. Must have come after you once you sent Iris down to get us.”

“Iris… oh God, that’s right, she was with me! Is she alright? Did she get hurt?”

Dean smiled and tutted, “Shh, she’s fine, I promise. Sam took her and Charlie back to the house couple of days ago and took care of it. Shouldn’t be hurting anyone anymore.”

Relief washed over you at knowing both Iris and Charlie were safe, and that no one else would die at the hands of that vengeful spirit.

“Dean, I need to tell you something,” you started, but a fit of dry coughs prevented you from talking. He got you the water and once you were done and dealing with the shards of pain it caused throughout your body, you drank it, much more greedily this time.

“Whatever it is, it can wait. Sam, Charlie, and Iris are here, they want to see you.”

“It can’t wait,” you said, feebly grabbing at his shirt before he could get up. “Dean, I don’t know how, or when it happened exactly, but I, uh, I’m six weeks pregnant.”

Dean stared at you processing the information you just gave him. You didn’t know what to expect from him, but it certainly wasn’t laughing. He snorted a laugh or two through his nose at first, shaking his head in near disbelief. That soon turned to a full-on belly laugh where he couldn’t quite get out what he wanted to say.

“Pregnant?! We’re, we’re gonna have a baby?” he had finally stopped laughing, but the grin remained on his face. It was hopeful and happy, making those cute little crinkles at the corner of his eyes appear.

“You’re not freaked out? I mean, with everything…”

Dean shook his head. “No, not anymore. After you got hurt, and I sat here watching you fight for your life, I prayed. I prayed harder than I ever had before, Y/N. I prayed for you to be alright, for us to have everything we ever wanted. If that meant throwing a kid into the mix, I told God I was ready. Cause, darlin’, if I do it with you, I can do anything.”

“Dean, this is going to be hard. Like, the hardest thing ever.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I think there have been a few things that were a bit harder… trying to put Lucifer in his cage. That was tough. Leviathans… yikes. Then there was the time—”

“Alright, I get it, smart ass.”

“No matter what it is, we can handle it. We got a team out there, you know. Sam, Charlie… hell, even Iris. They’re on our team. Cas, too. Whatever comes, we got this.”

Dean was confident in what he was promising you; it was written all over his face that he really believed what he was saying. You could also feel it; in his gaze, in his touch. If he could have faith in your ability to be parents, maybe you could too.

“You remember when you found me in the garage? Before we left?”

You nodded and smiled at the memory.

“I never did answer you…”

You furrowed your brow but couldn’t recall what you’d asked him.

“The song,” he said and moved closer to you. “You asked me if I was singing about you or the car.”

“Ohhh, right,” you snickered and remembered how cute he’d looked singing when he didn’t know anyone was watching.

“I was thinking about you. You really are my pride and joy. I’d do anything—” he paused and cleared his throat of the building emotion; smiling to cover up the intense feelings that were overwhelming him, “—anything for you.”

“Would you… sing it for me now?” you couldn’t help but ask and tease him a little in the process.”

“No,” he smiled and wagged a finger at you. “That’s where I draw the line. But, I can tell you that, I do love you, heart and soul. And, that a love like ours, will never grow old. You’re my sweet little baby, and I’m your—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” you laughed, unable to bear to hear him speak any more of the lyrics with the face he was making. “Just for the record, I love you too. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be. Probably still searching for a place to call home.”

“Wherever we are all together,” he said, resting his hand on your stomach, “that’s where I call home.”

You could feel yourself healing just from him being there. The tension in your body began to lessen; even the pain that was present when you moved seemed to be diminishing as well. With Dean’s help, you sat up straighter in bed and felt your stomach rumble. Looking at the stash of snacks on the chair, you asked for him to open some of what he’d brought.

“I better get more, since there’s two of you now,” he teased as he handed you the bag of animal crackers. “Speaking of, do we tell everyone? I mean, is it too early?”

“I have no idea,” you said snatching the cookies from his hand. Your appetite was immediate and slightly ravenous. Trying to remember the doctor’s words, you ate them slowly, but you really wanted to just scarf the whole bag.

“I guess your exam went well?” he asked curiously, as he watched you tear into the bag of children’s cookies.

“Mhm, she said I’m healing well. A few broken bones, but otherwise great. Baby is strong and healthy.”

“Just never saw someone so hungry after being unconscious for almost a week.”

“I don’t know, I just know that after the exam she did on my back, I am feeling a lot better. Sore, and still tired, but I can move with minimal pain and I am hungry as hell.”

“Guess she’s got the magic touch, huh?” he said with a smile, but it wasn’t his real smile.

“Guess so. Hey, did you say the others were here? Grab them and let’s tell them the absolute insane news.”

“Yeah, alright,” Dean said, bending down to kiss you on the head. “I’ll be back.”

 

xx

 

Dean entered the hallway and found Sam, Iris, and Charlie talking lowly near the small waiting area. He raised his chin in a greeting and looked around for any people that may be within earshot.

“Hey,” he started and paused as a doctor passed by. “She’s up, and apparently very hungry. Good news, just a few broken bones. Doc seems to think she could be out in a day or two.”

“What? That’s—that’s amazing,” Sam exclaimed looking between them. “A bit shocking, but amazing.”

Charlie examined Dean’s expression closely. “Something is up… what’s up?”

“I don’t know, but… she could barely move when she woke up. Couldn’t really talk. Pain was written all over her face. Doc comes in, kicks me out, and suddenly, she’s ready to walk on out of here and hit the nearest fast food joint.”

“Could you just be paranoid?” Iris asked. “I mean no offense, and it was a rough fall, but the human body can do some amazing things.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Iris, but in our world, when something seems fishy, its usually for good reason. There’s something very off about this, and that doctor. When we brought her in, they told us to expect the worse. Now, she’s ready to be discharged?”

“What could it be?” Sam asked, his mind racing through a million random facts on lore and monsters but coming up empty. “Who would want to secretly heal someone? I mean, other than angels—”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled and hung his head.

Charlie and Iris exchanged a confused glance, while Sam tried to understand what Dean could have realized. A thought struck him, even though it seemed impossible, but it was all his mind could keep coming back to.

“Dean… you think?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“But, he’s dead. We saw him die.”

“Did we?” Dean asked and immediately felt ridiculous for assuming that the death they witnessed had been real at all.

“It has been years, how would—why would—”

Dean shrugged and shook his head. “Listen, let’s keep this to us for now, alright? She’s got enough going on and doesn’t need to know.”

“Know what? Enough with the brospeak, guys. Wanna share with the rest of us who don’t speak Winchester?” Charlie asked, not without a bit of sarcasm.

“Gabriel,” Dean said with a sigh.

“The Trickster? But you saw him die?” Charlie mused, eliciting an eye roll from Dean.

“Did we?” he asked again, returning her sarcastic tone.

Iris shook her head softly. “I’m so lost.”

“Forget it for now,” Dean waved her off. “Just drop it for now and we’ll figure it out. Besides, there’s something you guys need to know.”

“She’s pregnant,” Iris said with a shrug. “I tried to tell her…”

“What?!” Sam and Charlie sang in unison, while Dean couldn’t hide the enormous grin that engulfed his face.

“Dude!” Sam grabbed and embraced his brother roughly.

Charlie punched Dean’s should and silently squealed with excitement.

From behind them, the door to your hospital room opened and they saw you walking out, rolling your IV pole with one hand and shaking the second bag of snacks into your mouth with the other.

“I thought you were coming back… heard the commotion out here and thought I’d come to you guys instead. Besides, I am starving. I wanted to try and catch you to see if there’s a pizza place around here or something.”

You watched as Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Iris all exchanged a knowing glance and then collectively looked back at you in amazement. It didn’t dawn on you that you shouldn’t be able to be walking around or be feeling as hungry as you did.

Assuming it was due to Dean not being able to stay quiet about the baby, you scowled at him. “I guess you couldn’t wait to tell them, huh?”

“Uh, no. Iris guessed it,” he said and slipped an arm around your lower back. He kissed your check and tried not to worry about your “speedy” recovery. “Let’s get you back in bed, and you can visit with the girls. Sam and I will go and grab some grub. Deal?”

You nodded enthusiastically and went back into your room. It was once your back was turned to the group, did they all get a communal appearance of concern across their faces.

“When we get her home,” Sam whispered to Dean, as Dean nodded in approval.

“When we get home,” Dean repeated and followed you into your hospital room.


	8. Faithfully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month into the shock of their lives and things at the bunker isn’t exactly what she’d hope they be. Dean is leaving her out of the loop again, so its time she sets off on her own to get answers about Iris, the prophecy and why Crowley wanted her in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter: Faithfully by Journey

You tip-toed through the bunker and made it safely to the garage without anyone seeing you. Popping the trunk, you added the bag that was slung over your shoulder and quietly closed it. Once you revved Blanche’s engine, it would only be a matter of time before Dean would be in the garage questioning where you were going. So, the quicker you could get gone, the better. You’d deal with the fallout when you returned.

Being back at the bunker after your accident felt much different now than it had before. You tried to settle back in the best you could, but it was much easier said than done. Everything sort of felt, off. Dean was on constant high alert from the minute he brought you back from the hospital. Any intimacy had been put aside, he was constantly checking up on what you were doing and where you were. You could barely go to the kitchen to make a sandwich at first, without him following you.

As for hunting, that just wasn’t allowed. You’d been imprisoned in the bunker for the foreseeable future, and you were starting to resent him for it.

Dean had become increasingly overbearing and controlling. Didn’t matter if it was for a job or a run to the grocery store, Dean barely let you out of his sight for more than an hour at a time. This is how things went over the month that you’d been home from the hospital. Your recovery from the fall was lightning fast, and you knew that was of some concern. Nothing happened like that without some sort of divine interference, and that was most certainly the reasoning behind Dean’s secretive nature.

Dean and Sam spent most of their time with their heads together, talking in hushed tones that always got pushed aside when you entered the room. A few times you’d come into where he was, and he would quickly end a phone call, or begin to whisper to whoever was on the other end of the line. The only thing you had been able to overhear from any of them was the name, Gabriel.

Castiel would bring updates, but you were never told what they were. Iris worked diligently on decoding the tablet Cas had recovered from Hell, hoping there was more on it about the prophecy she had. So far though, she wasn’t able to find anything.

You knew Dean was up to or investigating something he didn’t want you to know about. But, you knew Dean well enough at this point to also know, straight up confronting him about it would get you nowhere. He would just find a way to divert your attention to something else. If you wanted them, you’d have to get your own set of answers.

You were just about to slip into the front seat when you saw the door to the garage opening.

“Dammit,” you mumbled and considered ducking behind the trunk before you could be spotted, but then realized it was only Iris coming through the door. She had her sweater pulled tightly around her, her eyes wide with concern.

“What are you doing?” she whispered harshly. “Where are you going? You’re not going to do that thing we talked about, are you? I don’t know for sure if he’s alive, it’s not a good idea!”

You sighed. “I need to get out of here for a bit. The warden isn’t looking, so I’m seizing the opportunity. That’s all.”

“He’s gonna kill you,” she snorted.

“I know, and I feel terrible. But,” you paused, the frustration you felt with Dean rising, “no—you know what? Screw him. I am an adult and should be able to come and go as I please. Just because—”

“Because of what?” Dean’s voice carried in from the doorway. “Because you’re pregnant?”

You bit down on your lower lip to keep yourself from replying. When you met his gaze, the simmering anger you saw there elevated your own, and the atmosphere of the garage instantly changed.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go find some breakfast,” Iris mumbled and quickly excused herself, not even looking at Dean as she buzzed past him, closing the garage door behind her.

Dean stood there, his hands crossed over his chest, his gaze burning holes in you. “Well?”

“Well what, Dean?”

He took his time to be careful, calculating his tone and words. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to fight with you. I really don’t. But you can’t just,  _go out_.”

“Why? Because I am pregnant? That’s horseshit. I’m ten weeks along, barely even showing yet, and you’ve been treating me like I’m gonna break in half. I need to get out of here once in a while. Breathe in the fresh air. Feel the sunshine…”

“I know you feel cooped up, so if you wanna get out, let’s take a drive. Just the two of us. We’ll go, I don’t know, anywhere you want. As long as we go together.”

“So you can watch my every move? What in the fuck are you so afraid of happening, Dean?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” he roared, his resolve finally giving into the frustration boiling below the surface. “How about getting kidnapped by the King of Hell?! Or, maybe getting pushed over a third-floor balcony by a God-damned poltergeist! Y/N, it’s my job to protect you both. I can’t do that if you’re not here, or if I’m not with you.”

“See, that right there is the problem! I’m not a  _job_  Dean, I’m supposed to be someone you love! But since you found out about the peanut here, I’m more of a prisoner than your girlfriend.”

“What do you expect me to do? Hmm? Cas and Sammy got bloodied by demons. Then, friggin’ Crowley decides your worth taking. We never did find out what the hell that was all about, except that both things tie into our baby and this crap Iris keeps saying. If you don’t think I’m going to do whatever I have to, to keep you safe… then you don’t know me at all.”

“I just want some air, Dean,” you sighed, feeling guilty for the partial lie. “I want to go to the store or take a walk in the park. I want to go hunt something, dammit. I’m not someone who can sit still for this long. I took a break after the vamp debacle. Fine. Great. It helped. But then, Harley dies, and I take another break. Then everything sort of spiraled and now here I am. I feel like I am losing myself here.”

His expression softened and in it, you could see him sympathize. Dean embraced you, and despite being mad at him, you hugged him back. He curled his arm up around your hair and kissed the top of your head. “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like that. But you understand where I’m coming from, right?”

“I do, actually,” you said and pulled back from him, “and I love you for it. But—”

“But?”

“Yeah, but… this doesn’t work for me. Your overprotectiveness is going to be what makes me leave, for good. Not just for the day.”

Dean’s brow furrowed into an expression you’d never seen before as he stepped back from you. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, you either trust me that I can take care of myself and this baby or lose us both. You seem to forget that I am here because you asked me to stay. After Harley, you brought me back here to grieve, and I loved you for that. I was scared to leave, then, by the time I was ready, all this crap started going down with Crowley and demons, and then Iris.”

You paused and tried to calm yourself before you said something you wouldn’t be able to take back. “This isn’t my home. I have an apartment two states away, plus Harley’s house that still needs to be dealt with. I’ve stayed because I fell in love with you and I didn’t want to be far from you. Now, suddenly I’m pregnant and I’m not allowed to leave the bunker?! There aren’t even any windows in here Dean. How can raising a kid here be a good idea?”

“It’s not forever, just until—”

“Until, what? That’s the other thing. You’re being all secretive again. I asked you not to shut me out, yet, here we are. What are you and Sam after, hmm? I know you’re chasing this prophecy thing. You won’t tell me what Cas knows, Iris is still trying to decipher the tablet and I feel like I’m losing my mind! Do you know what it’s like to have people digging into your life and not tell you what they find?!”

You were near tears now, and regardless of the half-truths you were telling about why you wanted to leave, all the emotion coming to the surface was genuine and needed to be said. “I just need a break, so I am taking one. I’d really like you to let me without it getting ugly.”

You’d never see such anger flash in his eyes before. Dean’s whole body tensed, and his fists clenched in and out. He wanted to respond, but there was nothing he could say at that moment that would have helped. Weeks of pent-up emotion was unraveling, and you weren’t sure if you could stop it.

“So, I’m gonna get in my car now, and I’m gonna leave for a while. I will be back,” you said, calmer now.

Dean didn’t respond. He just watched you get in your old Chevelle and start the engine. You had no intention of putting yourself in harm’s way, but you had your own questions that begged for answers. Dean wouldn’t talk to you about what he was doing, so it was time for you to do some digging of your own, and you knew just where you wanted to start.

Reversing out of the garage, you flicked on the headlights and they illuminated Dean’s form, still in the spot you left him in. Arms again folded over his chest, scowl living on his face. Finally, up and out of the tunnel, Blanche saw sunlight for the first time in far too long. You rolled down the window and leaned your head out to feel the warmth of it on your face. Hating how you left things with Dean, you tried to remind yourself that this was as much for the baby as it was for you and his anger was something you’d have to deal with later.

Once you were a few miles clear of the bunker, you pulled off the road and took out your cell, dialing the only number you thought may be able to help you. It rang a few times before Charlie’s voice came through.

“Hello?”

“Charlie, its Y/N—”

“Hi!” she exclaimed before you could say more. “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”

“We’re both great, thanks. Any chance you might be able to meet me somewhere, I need help with something.”

“Yeah, absolutely! What’s the deets?”

As you and Charlie chatted briefly about where to meet up, you felt a rush of anxiety and anticipation. And for the first time, the slightest flutter of movement in your stomach.

 

[Originally posted by lipstick-mother-fucker](https://tmblr.co/ZE61cp20jSFoK)

Dean stormed forcibly into the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door violently, causing the bottles to rattle in their place on the racks.

Sam and Iris looked up and shared a knowing look. “Everything alright?” Sam asked hesitantly, and sighing in frustration when Dean grabbed a beer and popped the top. “Dude, it’s barely morning. Gonna add that to your cornflakes?”

Dean paused and gave him a warning look. “Back off, Sam. Not in the mood.”

“What happened?” he stood up from the table and met his brother in the middle.

Dean looked passed him at Iris, who was watching them talk. “We’ll talk later.”

“Don’t stop on my account. I know why she left. Don’t need to be a prophet to have seen that coming,” Iris mused and took a bite of her cereal.

“Excuse me?” Dean growled, forcibly moving Sam out of the way and stalked towards Iris. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Just that you were like her prison guard, that can’t be fun for anyone. Much less a super anxious pregnant lady.”

Dean glared at her for a minute. “Don’t you have an angel tablet to read or something?”

Iris shrugged and finished the last of her cereal. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to chase?”

She put her bowl in the sink and headed out of the kitchen. Dean turned to Sam and shook his head, “Why is she still here? Shouldn’t she be back in Chicago by now?”

“Easy tiger,” Sam said, going back to his own breakfast. “She’s not entirely wrong. I mean, I get why you keep Y/N close, but man, you’re sounding a lot like dad these days.”

“Well, it kept us alive, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but she’s not your kid.”

“She’s carrying my kid. That’s not enough of a reason?” Dean barked, his face twisted in defiance. Realizing he was taking it out on the wrong person, he took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, Sam, I am not going to apologize for wanting to protect my family.”

“No one said you should.”

“Y/N did. She left, by the way. Said if I didn’t let her get out for a while, she’d leave for good.”

“Whoa, what? Where did she go? And really, I can’t imagine she’d leave you… not now.”

Dean slumped into the chair next to his brother and exhaled deeply. He ran a hand through his hair and reached for his beer.

“I know I can be stubborn. But after everything that’s happened so far, its hard to just trust she’ll be alright.”

“Man, I can’t even imagine. Trying to be any sort of normal in our lives is hard enough but knowing there’s a kid on the way…” Sam sucked air through his teeth and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe, just let her be for right now. We need to figure out the rest of this prophecy, and what, if anything, Gabriel has to do with it.”

“Cas says that from what he learned upstairs, Gabriel appears to be dead. So, if he was Iris’ M.I.A. archangel, it would explain why she was unprotected. But I tell ya, Y/N’s doc from the hospital, the more I think about it, the more I can’t shake I know her… but not her. If that makes any sense. The eyes were familiar… it’s what brought Gabriel to mind in the first place.””

“Makes complete sense, actually,” Sam said as he threw his stuff in the sink. “Not like he hasn’t messed with us or made us think he was dead before. Let’s get crackin’ while she’s on sabbatical. Who knows, maybe we can even get it all resolved before she gets back and then, there won’t be a reason to keep her under lock and key.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and followed him out of the kitchen and down to the storage unit where they’d been keeping most of the supplies for summoning and various other spells.

Once in the unit, they flipped on the light and Sam went right for the closet to retrieve a book he’d left there. He paused when he saw that it hadn’t been locked properly.

“Uh, Dean? Did you come in here recently?”

“No, why?”

Sam pulled the door open and surveying its contents. “Shit.”

“What?” Dean joined him by the door and peered inside. “What’s wrong?”

“The holy oil is gone. Did you leave it in the trunk?”

“No, man. Haven’t touched the stuff.”

“Y/N or Iris?” Sam asked, hoping that he’d say Iris took it to study.

“No, Iris doesn’t even know what it is. Y/N, however…”

They shared a look of understanding and realized that her need to get out wasn’t so much for fresh air and sunshine like she said, but just maybe she was going in search of her own answers.

Before either of them could say anything more about it, they heard a sound of someone knocking at the main entrance. Just as they made their way back up to the War Room, Iris was opening the door up top and talking to someone. Taking the steps two by two, Dean’s face broke out into a wide grin when he saw Jody standing there, casserole dish in hand and trying to convince Iris to let her in.

“Iris, its fine, Jody is family. Get in here!” Dean said and pulled the heavy door open further. “So what, you’re allergic to phones now? Can’t call and warn a guy you’re coming?”

Jody absently passed the dish to Iris, who examined it curiously as Dean yanked her into an embrace.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit?” he asked cheerfully, but Jody could hear something off in his voice.

“Is that your way of saying you don’t appreciate the ‘pop-in’?”

“Normally, no, they are the worst, but you are the exception. Especially when you come with food,” Dean grinned and took the dish back.

“I know how to make my boys happy,” she teased and playfully pinched his cheek. “Actually, I was talking to Sam the other day, and he made it seem like you guys were up against it, so I thought I’d take a trip down and be of service.”

After Sam hugged her warmly, they made their way downstairs and into the kitchen where Jody was officially introduced to Iris. Sam put on the coffee and Dean told the tale of how they came to meet Iris, and they’d rescued her and Y/N. As the story went on, Jody listened, wide-eyed and surprised. She had gotten the broad strokes of it, but when they got to the first mention of the baby, her face turned bright red and an expression of fury flashed on her face before it gave way to a giant grin.

“Dean Winchester! How DARE you not tell me Y/N was pregnant! I’ve heard so many things about this woman I’ve yet to meet, and now she’s having your baby!” She rocked back in her seat and slapped her knee. “I can’t believe this!”

Sam chuckled beside her and passed a gleeful look at Dean. “I said you should’ve told her…”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean grumbled. “I know Jody, I’m sorry. It’s been… a lot to process.”

“Well, yeah! A baby IS a lot to process dummy. So, alright, where is she, I need to meet her now. She’s carrying my grandbaby after all!”

Dean snorted, “Your grandbaby? Um, is that how genetics work?”

“You, shut up,” she passed a warning look at Dean. “You boys are family to me, and, yeah, your mom can’t be here to claim that title, then I will, dammit.”

Dean’s expression softened, and for the first time in a while, felt a genuine smile touch his lips. “That works for me.”

“Good. Now, where is she?” Jody clapped her hands together and jumped up towards the kitchen door.

The smile faded from Dean’s face as he passed an uncertain look at Sam. “You might as well sit back down, Y/N’s gone.”

“Gone where?” Jody asked, looking between the three of them curiously. Iris just sat back in her seat against the wall and avoided eye contact, and Sam kept his gaze on Dean, silently urging him to answer Jody.

“I don’t know. We got into a fight this morning and she left.”

“She left? Why? What the hell did you fight about?”

“Dean’s acting like a warden and Y/N was tired of it,” Iris finally spoke up, and ignored the narrow-eyed glare from Dean. “Sorry, but you were.”

“This true?” Jody asked, her arms folded over her chest, her eyes fixed on Dean.

“What? I’m not gonna be sorry for trying to protect her, not after all that’s happened!”

“Ok, fine. But there are better ways, Dean. You can’t tell her she can’t leave the premises. You’re lucky she didn’t knock you on your ass. ‘Cause I woulda. Being pregnant is hard, and holy shit does it mess with your hormones.”

“I know, but—”

“Oh no, no buts… You need to apologize. Good intentions or not, you were wrong. That woman is going to do something that will forever change her body, her mind and her spirit. You need to support her, not control her. She’s a hunter, right? Trust that she knows her own instincts.”

Dean sighed, and suddenly felt simultaneously attacked and guilty. He couldn’t find the words to respond, though he tried several times.

“Also, doesn’t help that he’s not telling her what’s going on,” Iris spoke up again, and this time smiled in retort to the dirty look Dean threw her way.

“What is  _with_  you? Huh? You really don’t like me, do you?” he asked her.

“I like you fine. I just think you think you need to control everything. Let the woman be. She’s gonna be fine. Anyway, my opinion is moot. You love each other, that’s all that should matter. Both of you need to stop being stubborn, tell each other what’s going on and work together. She’s just as bad as you are.”

“I like this girl,” Jody mused, unable to hide the smile that formed. “You should listen to her.”

“Please, don’t,” Dean grumbled and sat back in his chair. He knew Iris was right, Jody, too. He had been a dick, and though he felt he had his reasons, he could see Y/N’s side of it all as well.

His anger faded and now he just wanted her to come home, so he could see her and touch her; make sure she and the baby were ok.

“Ok, so no idea where she went?” Jody asked, looking between Sam and Dean.

“No, just that she took the holy oil,” Sam answered quietly.

“For what purpose?” Jody asked with a shrug, her brain shifting into cop mode to examine the facts of the case.

“Only thing you’re gonna use holy oil for is to trap an angel.”

Jody was thoughtful for a moment. “Castiel?”

“No, Cas has been all over trying to help us find answers,” Sam replied. “Gabriel.”

“I thought you said he was dead.”

Dean and Sam shrugged in unison. “That’s the party line. Who the hell knows really.”

They batted around some further theories for the next hour, but nothing could be settled without more information. Iris finally took her leave and went back to decoding the rest of the tablet, while Sam, Dean, and Jody caught up on the whirlwind life had been over the months since first meeting Y/N.

Eventually, Sam went to make up a guest room for Jody and left her alone with Dean, who by now was feeling sadder, and more contemplative about Y/N and where she could have gone.

“You gotta hang in there,” Jody said as she got up from her seat. “She’s going to come back, safe and sound.” Dean sighed and rested his chin to his hand. Jody grabbed his other hand and gave it a squeeze. “I promise. She’s going to be fine.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, more amused than accusatory.

“Because, you’re in love with her, right? In what world would Dean Winchester fall in love with a weak woman?”

Dean snorted a laugh and shook his head.

“None that I know,” Jody said and winked. “Now, let’s go start getting this place ready for a baby.”

* * *

 

Charlie had beat you to the meeting place and was out, leaning against her bright yellow Gremlin when you parked the Chevelle and killed the engine. She clapped her hands excitedly and yanked you into a fierce hug.

“Hello baby!” she squealed and put a hand to your belly. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, that was so rude!” she pulled back and you grabbed her wrist. Chuckling, you placed it back on your stomach and smiled at her.

“Now you stop, the baby needs to know their Aunt Charlie, so you have touch permission,” you said with a wink, and her face broke out into a huge grin.

“Aunt Charlie. That’s got a badass ring to it,” she was beaming, but once her eyes met yours, her smile fell away and she bent down to talk closer to your stomach. “Unless Daddy Dean finds out that I am helping mommy without telling him. Then Aunt Charlie may be perma-banned.”

“Never, you know that. You’re a sister to them. Me, however, I may be excommunicated if he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, about that, why the secrecy? I thought you were working on this together. Iris is decoding the tablet, Cas is doing his angel thing, while you Sam and Dean—”

“Correction, Sam and Dean. I’ve been left out of the equation,” you interjected with a sarcastic grin.

“Oh,” Charlie winced. “I guess Dean is doing that whole overprotective thing again?”

“You’re familiar with it?”

“Of course, I think you have to go through it to become an honorary Winchester. Consider yourself officially part of the family.”

“Great. When do we get matching jackets?”

“I can see why you two work, you’re just like him” she snickered. “Ok, seriously, are you sure you want to do this?”

You leaned back against the Gremlin next to her and started chewing on your lower lip. The baby did a little somersault, causing the butterfly ripples to tickle your insides. That’s when you knew, you had to get to the bottom of things, regardless of what Dean wanted. It was your body, your life, and your baby, too. You had just as much a right to protect him or her as he did.

“I’m sure. Do you have the incantation?”

Charlie pulled the paper from her jacket and held it up. “Got it.”

“Good. Let’s do this.”

You and Charlie proceeded into the empty warehouse you had picked to summon Gabriel. After you heard Dean and Sam talking about it one day, you did a little research and then remembered Dean telling you a little about him. He had been killed years before, but when you prodded Iris, she said that something told her he wasn’t dead. At night, you’d get up and page through the volumes of research in the library and what Sam had pulled together.

You knew the holy oil would contain the angel, what you didn’t know, is if he would really show. Having no other options other than summoning Crowley, you figured this would be the best shot.

Charlie cleared a place on the floor and made a circle out of the oil. When it was complete, she placed the container safely out of the way and sidled up alongside you.

“Ready when you are,” she said, uncertainty coating her tone.

You pulled out the paper with the incantation on it and cleared your throat. The first few words came out broken and weak, but another ripple from the peanut inside you and you found a source of strength you didn’t realize was there. Lighting a match, you threw it into the circle of holy fire, pushed your shoulders back and started the Enochian again. This time, even Charlie noticed the power in your words and took a step back to give you room to work.

_“Zod ee reh doh noh koh an beh rah ma geh nah zod peh sah geh”_

Charlie then threw the match into the bowl, bringing on a brilliant flash of white light. A small bit of smoke swirled between you, briefly obscuring your view of the fiery ring.

[Originally posted by imaginary-desires](https://tmblr.co/ZZJDLd2QsUuMh)

“Did it work?” Charlie asked fanning the smoke from in front of her face.

“I don’t know,” you coughed a little and took a step closer as the obtrusion dissipated.

“You know, all you had to do was call,” Gabriel smirked from the middle of the ring. “Cause, you’ve got a frieeend,” His vessel’s eyebrow raised, and an impish glee penetrated from his hazel eyes as he sung out the last word.

“Gabriel.” His name fell from your lips in a breathy exuberance, which clearly pleased him.

“You really are alive,” Charlie spoke up, more to herself than the room.

“Of course I am. You really think I’d let that asshat big brother of mine take me out? Puh-lease. Have some faith in me ladies. By the way, if you wanted to chat, all you had to do was pray to me. I’ve been lingering for ages now.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked as you stared at him curiously.

“It means I know how to lay low; not being picked up on angel radar. But when my prophet’s number came up, I was supposed to be on active duty and kinda forgot. When I finally did peak in, I saw she had already met Crowley. Realizing what why he wanted her, then seeing a Winchester was involved, I decided to play the game a bit differently. How could I  _not_  cheat juuuust a little?”

You turned to look at Charlie who was just as confused, yet mesmerized, as you were.

“Um, any chance we could put the fire out. This place is, well, awful. Would love to go somewhere a bit cozier to chat.”

“Ye-Yeah, sure. You’re not gonna bail, right? Cause I have questions…”

He tilted his head and held out his arms as if saying  _come on…._ Deciding to trust him, you went about dosing the ring of holy fire so Gabriel could set out and move around. Once free of the confines he approached Charlie and gave her a good once over.

“Well, aren’t you fun?” he smiled and winked at her, twirling a lock of her bright red hair between his fingers. “I can see why Sam and Dean are so fond of you.”

“Yeah, I like girls,” she bit back with narrowed eyes and a tone full of snark, only making Gabriel chuckle.

“Me too,” he winked again, much bigger this time and turned his attention back to you.

“Do tell Iris I’m sorry about the whole Crowley thing. It was nothing personal, honestly. Just a little oops on my part. But, I knew she’d be fine.”

“So, you are her archangel?” you asked.

“Yep. Screwed the pooch on that one, huh?” he chuckled and shrugged. “Again, nothing personal.”

“And, my fall? You healed me, didn’t you?” you had nothing but a gut feeling on this one, but you still knew he had.

“Guilty as charged, kitten. Couldn’t let the next generation you have there get snuffed out because of an accident. That kid’s gonna change everything.” His tone changed on the last few words and the grin he wore was both proud and righteous. You could see by his expression that he held all the answers you needed, but it also made you somewhat wary of what those would be. Suddenly, you wondered how much you really wanted to know.

You swallowed thickly, trying to decide if you should keep prodding or not. Gabriel took your silence for shock. “No need for the stress lines, Y/N. Uncle Gaby’s got you and the little peanut M&M.”

“Holy shit, it really was you,” you mused in disbelief. “Dr. Shari… you were her. That’s how you healed my back and made the pregnancy symptoms almost nothing. God, I was hungry that day, and for a week after. I barely had morning sickness, my fractures mended in a matter of days. That was all you?”

He shrugged again, but his smirk was less playful and more serious. “Dean isn’t my biggest fan. And this,” he motioned towards your abdomen, “is waaay bigger than him. So, I did what I had to.”

“Well, don’t pat yourself on the back too hard,” Charlie scoffed. “Dean knew it was you in the hospital.”

“Good for him” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Did he Sherlock his way into figuring out the rest? Hmm?”

“No,” you said, clearing your throat of the emotion you’d felt. “He’s having Iris decode more of the Angel tablet, hoping there’s something about this prophecy she had. Any chance you just wanna fill me in on that? I mean, I think of all people I have the right to know. Why did Crowley want with me?”

“The tablets aren’t gonna tell ya bubkis. That prophecy came straight from Dad and is centuries old bedtime story that the angels have heard since humans came into existence. How or why Iris was just hearing it now, I couldn’t tell ya.”

“Care to share?” Charlie asked.

“Ehh, let me remember it…” Gabriel began pacing around the room, looking up and trying to remember the phrasing. He was mumbling to himself and turned back towards you and Charlie once all the words came back to his recollection.

“Ok, right… when you little creatures were put here in the first place, Dad thought it would be fun to tell a little story to go along with his new creations.   _A child of emerald eyes created from a lineage direct from these first humans will be born to a man and woman who carry great strength, bravery and resolve. Infused with wisdom and powers of persuasion, this babe will become the light and the dark of the universe. He who harnesses their immense energy will become the one to rule over creation and fulfill the role of God and creator to worlds beyond this one._ ”

You felt the strength leave your knees, but Charlie was right there to put an arm around your waist, then help you find a seat safely.

“You wanna repeat that?” she asked.

“Would you? It’s kind of a mouthful. Be lucky you didn’t have to be the one to memorize that in Enochian. Yikes,” Gabriel chuckled and clapped his hands together. “But, hey, not bad for trying to remember a centuries-old Sunday school lesson, right? None of us, Archangels or otherwise, thought it would ever be true. It was a story. Until it wasn’t.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to understand what any of this could mean for your baby. Then the questions started… Why you? Why Dean? Why were the two of you chosen to create this child? You wanted to ask him, needed too, but you also realized that doing it on your own was wrong. You and Dean should be doing this together and you shutting him out was no better than what he had been doing to you.

“But why now?” Charlie asked, sensing your reluctance to ask anything more.

“Kiddo, if I knew, I’d tell. Or not. But I don’t know. All I do know is that I was off living the high life hiding in some really kick ass places, my prophet is on deck, I check in once and hear that little story being planted in her mind while she just happens to have visions, too. Lo and behold, there’s a Winchester involved, so I get curious, do a little digging and find out the other side got the memo that,” he paused and gasped for dramatic effect, “ _It’s Happening!_ ”

“Before, you said my baby would change everything. What does that mean?” You couldn’t imagine any answer he could give that would make you feel any less scared, but you had to ask anyway.

“They’ll be powerful. The influence, they’re going to have over…  _everything_  will be immeasurable.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Ah, there’s always a catch isn’t there? Well, it’s like this kitten, this kid will tip the scales one way or another and you can bet your sweet ass Crowley will try to tip them in his direction. You know, please for the black eyes. There’s a war coming. Who wins will be decided by who gains the favor of  _your_  kid. The will be the one that ultimately ends this war. To the victor go the spoils.”

“But, Sam and Dean, they stopped it. The apocalypse… it won’t happen now.”

Gabriel pursed his lips together, “Pfft. Apocalypse. Please. That was just the opening act. We’re talking Woodstock, here. The Beatles, Live at Bohudakan kinda big. That little tussle between my idiot brothers, that was nothing. What your kid is meant to do? That’s the big leagues.”

“Stop,” you spoke up, quietly. “Just, stop. I’ve heard enough. Charlie, let’s go,” you found your footing and stood, grabbed your bag and started to pack up the supplies and holy oil. “I need to go home… I—I need to talk to Dean.”

Charlie nodded and helped you get everything together. Gabriel watched, amused as you cleaned up any signs of your presence there.

“Hey, kitten. Demons are going to want you. Angels are going to want you. Well, the peanut, anyway.”

You froze. “So how do I know you’re on the level and not just vying to get us first? How can I really believe anything you’re telling me? If this is all true, why linger… why not just show up and tell us what was going on?”

“I guess… you don’t!” he smirked and tilted his head. “You’ll just have to trust me. I don’t owe you, anything. I healed you because I care about what side of the line that kid falls on. I answered this summoning, for the same reason.”

You snorted a laugh. “Right. C’mon Charlie.” You grabbed her elbow and speed walked towards the exit.

“I’ll be around if you need me!” Gabriel called after you as you made your way out of the abandoned warehouse. “Call me!” Was the last thing you heard as you left him behind.

Back at the cars, with the warehouse far behind you, you finally felt able to breathe again. Charlie sat with you in silence, unsure of what to say.

“Y/N… you need to talk to Dean,” she started and stopped when you looked up at her. Your expression said all she needed to know. “Ok, good.”

“Thank you for your help. I won’t include you in my recanting,” you said, trying to smile but falling flat.

“No, tell him I was with you. So, he knows you weren’t alone. That may help to lessen the blow. I can deal with whatever nonsense he throws my way.”

[Originally posted by politedemon](https://tmblr.co/ZkW1Vw2YfZAzP)

You hugged her tight and promised you’d check in with her once you got back to the bunker. Once she took off, you got into the Chevelle and turned the ignition. When the radio came blaring to life, you turned it up and began fiddling with the stations. Music had a way of streaming into your life whenever you were trying to process something important. Right then, you needed to just process what Gabriel had told you, how you were going to tell Dean, at the same time anxious about how he would be when you got back to the bunker.

Now that there were answers, at least some about the baby and Iris, you needed to find a way to deal with staying safe, and not hunting. As much as you hated to admit it, Dean was right. If Gabriel was being truthful, it wasn’t just a matter of the jobs themselves being dangerous anymore. There was a much deeper threat.

Putting Blanche in gear, you turned the wheel and cut out to the highway, giving her just a bit too much gas, and feeling her tires slip a little. As she fishtailed onto the pavement, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline spark inside you, something the little peanut felt too.

The endnotes of Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” died down on the radio, and without skipping a beat, “Faithfully” began pouring through the speakers. Your breath caught in your throat the moment Steve Perry’s voice filled the confines of the car. You started to sing along, belting out the words and trying to quell the emotion they elicited.

_“Highway run into the midnight sun_

_Wheels go ‘round and round, you’re on my mind_

_Restless hearts sleep alone tonight_

_Sending all my love along the wire”_

The increasingly familiar flutter of the baby caught your attention. You were overwhelmed by a rush of love for this unknown little creature that you hadn’t quite had yet. From the moment you found out, until that day, you realized you hadn’t thought much about it. Sometimes, even forgot it was there. But now, it was all you could think about and feel, especially as the song continued to blare through the speakers.

_“They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,_

_Right down the lines its been you and me…”_

That’s when the rush of tears started and wouldn’t stop. You carefully pulled the Chevelle over, and just let them fall for as long as they needed. The song played on and you thought about what this new life was going to look like. The one where it wasn’t just you and Dean anymore. There was another person now that you were both responsible for protecting. You hated yourself at that moment forever telling him you’d leave. You couldn’t. If it meant living in the bunker for the rest of your life and raising your child there, protected, you would do it. If it meant you and Dean could be together and keep your family safe; you’d do and sacrifice anything.

By the time the final chorus was playing, you were able to see through your wet eyes again and drew in a deep breath. You needed to get home… now. As Blanche found her route back to the highway, you were shakily humming along…

_“Whooa, oh-oh…_

_Faithfully,_

_I’m still yourrss…_

_I’m forever yours…”_

 

The door to the bunker clunked behind you. You stopped and remembered to turn the latch before you began descending the stairs. You didn’t see the Impala in the garage, so you were sure Dean wouldn’t be there.

You were wrong.

Halfway through the War Room, you noticed his silhouette sitting in the dimly lit library. Dean’s back was to you, but you could see he’d been drinking. His hand slowly reached out for the crystal tumbler at his side and drained what was left in it.

There was a lot for you to talk about, but you didn’t want to right then. Right then, you just missed him and wanted to be with him. Maybe it was the hormones or the fact that he hadn’t touched you in almost two months. It didn’t really matter, you loved him and missed his touch.

You quietly went up the small staircase and into the library. He finally sensed your presence and looked up just in time to see you come ‘round in front of him. You expected him to get angry, start going off on why and how you left. Instead, he said nothing. Dean watched you for a moment, then turned to the decanter on the table and refilled his glass halfway with the whiskey.

“I’d offer you some, but…” his eyes went to your abdomen and he shrugged.

It was your turn to watch him now. He sipped at the liquor a couple times before putting the glass back down. When he gazed back up at you, his features were still soft, no sign of anger in his expression. You stepped closer and gently took his jaw in your hand. His eyes turned serious for a moment, curious as to your intentions.

You bend down closer to his face and saw a spot of whiskey that remained. Craving the taste of it, and him, you leaned over like you were going to kiss him, instead, licking the droplet from his lips.

The moment your tongue brushed against him, his hands were tight on your hips and pulling you in. You fell onto his lap as his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair. Pushing your mouth to his, your tongue tasted the whiskey and greedily inhaled as much of him as you could.

Dean was pawing at your clothes between a barrage of fierce, deep kisses, his breathing heavy and intense. Once your shirt was off, his hands ran over the fabric of your bra and across the flesh of your chest. His fingers wrapped up around your neck and guided you back down to his mouth. He kissed you deeply, growling as your teeth scraped against his bottom lip as you pulled back from him again.

“Don’t do that again,” he whispered roughly.

“Bite your lip?” you teased, but there was nothing playful about how he was looking at you.

He shook his head lightly. “No,” he rasped. He sat up from the chair, making sure you were safely on your feet first. He gingerly pushed you back against the table, so you were now sitting on its surface. He planted himself firmly between your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him.

Dean took your face in his hands and stared into your eyes as seriously as you’ve ever seen him. “Don’t  _ever_  talk about leaving me like that again. I don’t think I could do any of this without you, either of you.”

He gently laid you back on the table top. Lightly placing each of his hands on your sides, he bent down and gingerly kissed the slight swell of your stomach. The scratch of his stubble tickled your skin, but you didn’t laugh. You closed your eyes and relished in how it felt. It had been so long since you felt him like this. Your hands went to his head, as he remained there, trailing kisses down your abdomen to the top of your jeans. He unbuttoned them and roughly yanked at them until they were off and tossed aside along with your underwear.

Dean stood back and took you in. Nearly naked, laying before him on the table, he held your gaze as he slowly took off his flannel, then the Henley, casually tossing them to the chair he’d just been sitting in.

You sat up and grabbed at the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt, suddenly desperate to feel him inside you. As you were helping him get free of his clothes, you looked up, unable to hide the sly smile unfurling across your lips.

“Hope no one is due home soon.”

“They’re not,” he replied, his eyes now regaining that devilish gleam you loved so much. “Not ‘til tomorrow.”

“I guess I came home just in time.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed on you as he pushed you back to the table and bent his head down between your thighs. He didn’t tease or taunt, his tongue went straight for the depths of your folds and licked straight up to your clit. The roughness of his tongue sent shivers coursing through your nerves and a whimper from your lips. He lifted your hips up, so your legs wrapped up around his shoulders, while his relentless tongue lashing against your pussy raged on.

“Fuck!” you screamed, loving the feeling of being able to be as loud as you wanted. He loved it too and sucked against your clit before letting his fingers thrust up into you. Dean was bringing you close already, but you didn’t want to cum yet. You just needed to feel him as close to you as possible,

As much as you hated for him to stop, you reached down and lifted his head from between your legs. He didn’t fight you but made his way up your body with lingering kisses. He palmed your breast in his hand, brushing your nipple with the pad of his thumb and you could feel his cock pressing against you, nearly begging to slip inside.

You kissed him fiercely, the taste of yourself and whiskey on his breath making you ache for him. He moved your hips further down the table, and slowly let himself slip inside you. He growled lowly, his eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, they were not only blown back with lust but full of power you felt like love. Dean’s fingers dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs as he moved in and out, sometimes slipping out and teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

He smirked at how you writhed beneath him when he did, almost like he was punishing you while pleasuring you; he knew how that drove you crazy. But then, he was tired of the games and just wanted to have you. He quickly thrust back up into you sharply. You grabbed the edges of the table to hold on, as he moved in and out methodically at first, but as he went faster, more erratic.

Dean hung his head, his mouth slacked open as he watched you move below. He shifted his hand from the outer part of your thigh and used his thumb against your clit as he fucked you.

“Fuuu, baby… holy shit!” you couldn’t catch your breath, you felt your orgasm flood around him, your overstimulated folds electrified with each continuous brush against his hand. You tried to pull it away from him, but he was stronger and refused to stop. Your back arched, driving him deeper inside you. Reaching up, you grabbed him and pulled him down, his mouth finding yours easily.

Primal groans and grunts emanated from his chest. He stopped kissing you, unable to do that and keep his quickening pace. His breaths were ragged and sharp; you knew he was close. Dean hovered over you, his hips still rocking back and forth, fitfully now, as the head of his dick drug against your folds as he came, leaving your body near convulsing under him, while your name exploited from his mouth.

The room was near silent, only the sounds of you both trying to find your breath again filled the cavernous space. Dean rested his head to your chest and delicately kissed the soft swell of your breasts. He moved down your body to your stomach and kissed you, both hands rested gently upon the small bump that lived there.

He stepped back and helped you sit up, then found your clothes and handed them to you with a thoughtful grin. You dressed in silence, but your eyes kept finding each other and that’s when you knew that despite the argument, and all you still had to discuss, you and Dean were going to be fine. There was love there, and no matter what the future held for your little family, you’d face it together.

He slipped the Henley back over his head, just as you finished buttoning your jeans. Dean leaned back against the table and brought you into the safety of his arms. “You alright?”

You simply nodded and smiled softly. “So, where is everyone? I’m surprised Sam and Iris are out, together.”

“Jody took them on a quick road trip. They’ll be back sometime tomorrow.”

“Jody? Your sheriff friend, Jody?” Suddenly you felt nervous. She was someone you’d heard so much about but hadn’t gotten to meet yet.”

Dean chuckled. “The very same. She popped in to say hi today. Now she’s on baby duty.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, she’s determined to help us get everything ready. I hope that’s okay.” Dean ran his tongue nervously over his bottom lip. “I mean, I don—”

“Dean, stop. It’s fine. I know we have a lot to talk about, but if you don’t mind, could it wait? Tonight, I just,” you sighed, trying to find the right words to explain what you needed at that moment, “I just want to be with you, no one else. I don’t want to talk or make plans. I want to watch a movie, and have you rest your hand here so you can maybe feel her move.”

Realizing what just came out of your mouth, you and Dean both froze. A dopey sort of smile touched his whole face as his hand when to your stomach.

“Her?”

“I don’t know where that came from… just came out.”

“Well, her is better than it. And, I don’t know, the idea of a little girl. It’s kinda nice.”

You smiled playfully and slipped your arms around his neck. “Very nice, until she’s eighteen and brings home a boy just like dad.” His expression changed instantly from wistfully happy, to panicked. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Don’t worry, I’ll set her straight.”

“I’m sure,” he said and shook his head. “Before we take this into the kitchen for snacks and a movie, I want you to know something. I love you. I think I’ve loved you since that damn Halloween party. I know that this shouldn’t work. Being who we are and doing what we do, but it works. WE work. We, will make this work,” he lightly pressed against where your baby laid.

“I love you, Dean, and I love her. We are going to make this the best, safest home for our girl.”

“Damn straight,” he said, and kissed you again, before taking your hand and leading you down the hallway towards the kitchen.


End file.
